Protector of Men II: The Matrix Rectitude
by choirgrlalex
Summary: Complete. What if Neo chose the other door? What if Zion was restarted? And what if two generations never meant to know the truth met each other? New Zion, new One.
1. A Different Introduction

Protector of Men Ch 38

A/N – see the thing above this? Chapter 38. This is the _second_ installment of **Protector of Men**. It isn't totally necessary to read the first part, but I recommend it. You may get lost. If you want to read "Reprise", then click on my name and you'll find it.

Check it out, I don't own the matrix. But I do own Zandra, Shade, Cover, Alias, Trim, Kemp, and all my original characters. And I own Purgatory. Hahaha! Now wouldn't that be neat.

"I'm in," she spoke softly into the receiver. She hung up, and walked out of the basement she had arrived in. Going to go see the Oracle.

The days had passed so quickly – from Stephen's funeral, to the weeks of nothingness afterwards, to the waiting she endured while going to broadcast depth; she was a little amazed at where she was. Already she was back in the matrix, back to see the Oracle again, for whatever reason the woman had conjured. But this time Zandra would be prepared for whatever cryptic messages she would spew this time. She too had a battalion of obscure messages. It was only a matter of time before they would meet again.

To her _everything_ seemed to have been going quickly. Her training, her improvement over time, even her unplugging had been rushed after the agents had zoned in on her. She was the second person to be traced by an agent. It was surprising to everyone in Zion.

Zandra did a lot of things that surprised Zion. It was a young Zion, only 33 years old, almost 34 now. She was one of the few that had never been a hacker. She had found evidence of the matrix by observation. Her physics project had attracted many eyes, and the crew of Purgatory was especially interested. But so too were the agents, and Zandra was lucky that she had gotten unplugged in time. She had also terminated the first agent – and second, and third, as well. Many would have praised her abilities.

But some would have also chided her inabilities. Zandra was far from perfect; even she knew it. Sometimes she was too hard on herself, but even then her depression was rooted in reality. Around her, the first person had been killed by an agent. It wasn't a crewmate of hers, but she felt that if she had been there, the girl might not have died. And if she had been better, Alias might not have been paralyzed.

Zandra felt a ripple of guilt every time she saw the woman. Alias had been shot because of her. Zandra was kidnapped and unable to help her dying comrade, lying on the ground in front of her. She had failed her replacement family. And when she came back, Alias was paralyzed.

But it wasn't the worst that had happened. Zion had also lost its second man to the agents, this time much closer to her. _Stephen_. He was her friend from the Matrix that came back to befriend her again in the real world. She still cried often over his death, it was still so fresh. He had died keeping her secret pure – he had died because he didn't tell the agents what it was that Zandra had found that told her the matrix wasn't real. And they killed him for it, in front of her. She was unable to do anything to save him, and he died in her arms. She might have loved him, if she was given the chance. But no, he had been taken from her. 

It was the Oracle's fault.

Stephen's passing had done a lot to her. She was sullen, quieter and overcast. She rarely spoke, and never joked. Purgatory hoped that it would fade with time, but she showed no signs of brightening. Every room she entered became stiff and uncomfortable, only to have her retreat to her bunk again minutes later. The crew tried its best to ignore her weeping during the night. 

But his death had done more than that. Many people had dismissed Zandra's abilities in the beginning, but now they were unavoidably supreme. Zandra had made Brown and Jones cower in fear, and had caused the upload of three new agents, Johnson, Jackson and Thompson. Many crews found themselves unable to operate under the newly treacherous conditions. Some attributed the new danger to Zandra, but not many. They had heard how she had killed the agents, how they had killed her best friend. It was a different situation now, but they all had to continue somehow. They must continue the battle.

Zandra dusted off her coat before walking out into the street. Even her appearance had changed – though not substantially. Instead of her regular pants and tank, she was wearing black slacks, a leather top, and a heavy woolen duster. She was much more robed than previously, more out of grieving than anything else. She looked darker, deadlier - and she _was_.

The street was empty, and Zandra was relieved. She would have been pressed for time if she had to race her way out of a crowd that could turn into any of the agents at any moment. Deaths were becoming more prevalent among the rebels because of the new agents; Zandra sighed heavily as she continued down the pathway to the door she was looking for. At least she'd get some answers (and perhaps some closure) soon.

"She's at the door," Kesia called out. Cover nodded in recognition from a few feet away. They had been watching sporadically, but now had lost interest knowing that Zandra would soon be off of the matrix's radar and into the Oracle's land. 

Zandra knocked twice, as she had been told. But there was no answer. Zandra was immediately angry – this was quickly ending up as it had weeks before…

She twisted the door handle, and it opened. Gladly surprised, she walked through the door and found herself in a mostly empty room. Straight in front of her was the man that had ushered her in to the Oracle before, only now he was sitting serenely on the floor, sipping what looked to be tea. He looked strange to Zandra, and she got the feeling that something wasn't right… she was reminded of her project, ages ago, for some reason…

She looked around, expecting to see the Oracle somewhere. There was no one to be seen, and the man continued to sip at his tea. With each passing moment Zandra became more tense, _something's strange…_

"The Oracle is waiting," he told her, putting his tea down on the floor. Zandra was tense; something wasn't right.

"Where is she?" Zandra asked back. Her jaw clenched unconsciously.

"I can take you to her," he replied, "But things have changed."

Zandra tilted her head to one side, confused. _Things have changed?_ "Who are you?"

"I am Seraph," he said, and bowed slightly, "But now I must apologize." 

"Apologize for what?"

"For this."

And he flew at her, fists already flying. It took Zandra a moment to realize what he was doing - and in that moment, she was already hit and heading towards the door behind her. She recovered quickly; was able to get out of his way before he could knock her down again. She wasn't pinned, and freedom was what she needed. _Where to go_, Her mind asked, there wasn't much room in the place. There were four benches, two on either side of the room, and one small table at the end. She headed for a bench, intentionally knocking off its contents so that she could keep her balance better. Seraph was right behind her.

She turned around right as he was about to land a kick, and she wasn't completely prepared for it. In blocking the attack with a kick of her own, she ended up spiraling back to the ground, out of control. _Anticipate! _She told herself fiercely, _you're better than this!_

She immediately righted herself and took stock of what was around her. Still, the only things she could see were the thin benches in the room. It would have to do.

In a split second she jumped across the room and onto another bench with Seraph closely behind her. She was on one side; he was approaching the other. When she stepped up, she jumped as hard as she could and stomped back down on the bench. It was crude, but it did the trick. The man lost his balance and leapt to the ground, momentarily stopped, while she took her chance to flee and recoup for a second attack. He got up quickly, and was soon back in her range. There was no time; she'd have to hand fight now.

She tried to land a primary punch, but he blocked it so easily that Zandra was momentarily embarrassed. He then volleyed a group of quick ones on her so fast that she could barely keep up. _He's too fast_, she silently whimpered as he began to get the better of her, but she immediately crushed the thought as it came. She was more overwhelmed by the attack in itself – the formerly peaceful messenger was now flying at her like as if she were the enemy. _Was she_? Zandra was so consumed by thought that she didn't even see the kick coming; she hit the far wall with a bang and fell to the floor in a heap. _No time_, she told herself, _you have to get up!_ She pulled herself to her feet and readied herself for another round, but the man was out of stance, holding up a hand, telling her to stop.

"Good," he told her calmly. "Again, I apologize."

"Why?" she asked curtly, stretching her back. 

"Our situation has changed," he told her, "The Oracle has many enemies."

Zandra stared at him. Why would that necessitate an attack?

"I had to be sure," he continued, speaking as if he had said the words many times before. They had become rote for him.

"Sure of what?" For all she knew, Seraph was only getting at her because of her anger towards the Oracle. Perhaps this was a warning of what was to come… surely Stephen hadn't gone through this, had he? Zandra couldn't be sure of much of anything at the moment.

"Sure that you are the One."

Zandra was silent at the response. She let him lead her to the door she had originally come through; she remained quiet as he pulled out a ring from his sleeve that was full of keys of different sizes and texture. 

He unlocked the door and opened it. Behind it was something she had certainly never seen before. 


	2. Warnings

Protector of Men Ch 39

"Where are we?" she asked the man as he led her down the white hallways. She had almost become accustomed to the strange doors, but this hallway was something entirely new to her. 

"These are back doors," he explained, continuing to lead her down the endless hallway. His words sounded as if someone else had said them, as if he were repeating what he had heard before. 

"Must be safe," she added as an afterthought. The man nodded a few times, then was silent again. He stopped at a door in front of him and pulled out another key; unlocked it. Zandra's moment was coming. The time to find out the truth about Stephen's death, how the Oracle might have stopped it…

The man gestured for her to go through the door first, and she did. She found herself in a living room of sorts, cheaply decorated with bland paintings on the bare walls. The Oracle was sitting on a cheap sofa, and across from it was a bright red loveseat that Zandra guessed she was supposed to sit in. The Oracle looked to her and smiled sadly. Zandra didn't return the gesture, and remained standing where she was. There would be no fake smiles from her.

"Sit down, hon," she told her, gesturing towards the loveseat across from her sofa. She was still smiling. Zandra didn't move.

"I think I'll stand," she told her coldly. 

"Whatever floats your boat," she answered, obviously taking no interest in whether Zandra sat or not. She sighed, then looked back at her again.

"I'm sorry, kid," she told her, eyes full of feeling. Zandra wouldn't take it.

"Sorry?" she asked with fervor, "Sorry!?" The woman just kept smiling her mournful smile, and it enraged her further. 

"You knew it was going to happen!" she yelled. Seraph shifted behind her, and she was a little quieter. "Why didn't you stop it?" Tears threatened to fall.

The Oracle sighed again. 

"I know, kid, _I know_," she said, shaking her head, "But I can't change it now. I couldn't have helped."

"You could have told him not to leave!" she shouted again. The Oracle was not fazed, but she could tell that Seraph was feeling uncomfortable. _Let him_. Her lip trembled again, she could feel the hot tears fall down her face. She refused to blink.

"Zandra, they would have taken me down too, and then where would we all be?" Zandra was silent.

"I know you're mourning, and I know you love him," she told her. "Sit down."

Zandra shook her head, and continued standing. The woman shrugged, but didn't push it. She had already tested Zandra's limits, and didn't want to risk being harmed by a person - a _human_. That would have been embarrassing. 

"I told you that things were gonna get rough, didn't I?" she said, eyes imploring. Zandra sighed, and nodded. "And I told you we all suffer – and we all _do_. It's a fact of life, kid; you can't move forward without learning to lose a few."

"_Lose a few_?"

"I know it's _hard_ kiddo, and it'll be hard for a _while_ – but I promise you if I could have changed anything to keep him here, I would have. No one wants to be sad, it just happens that way."

Zandra was quiet.

"But onto other news…" she started, taking a sip from her plastic cup of juice that sat on the table in front of them.

"The agents have become deadly," she told her, "It isn't safe for just _anyone_ to be in the matrix anymore. But you already know _that_."

Zandra gave her a look. _Well that's obvious_, she thought. _Stephen's dead_. Her gloom intensified.

"Everyone is going to have to be more careful; things are changing quickly in this world."

Zandra looked up at the woman. _What did she mean? Things are changing quickly_? The Oracle detected her curiosity – just as planned.

"There are certain people in the matrix that have made it dangerous for others to be in it."

"_Certain people_?"

"Yes," she continued, nodding her head and widening her eyes. 

"Like _who_?"

The Oracle paused before answering, and only did so after looking at Seraph. He nodded silently, but Zandra couldn't see it.

"There is a man named the Merovingian," she said slowly, enunciating each word for emphasis, "He's been building up a collection of prisoners, and he's getting unruly. And you don't wanna get near _that_ one."

Zandra was quiet, silently willing her to continue. She was enthralled; someone could be working in the matrix while still plugged into it?

"If he contacts you_, ignore it_," she said, waving a hand. "You're better off without his propaganda, and there's no telling what he'll do to ya if you catch him in a bad mood."

Zandra nodded blankly, filing the information safely in her mind. Something wasn't right though… and she wasn't quite sure whether to believe the woman. Though she wasn't as sure of it as before, she still felt like the Oracle was at least somewhat involved in Stephen's death. If she couldn't have helped it, at least she could have been less selfish. But maybe that was too much to ask. 

The Oracle noted her sudden quietness and decided to change the subject. She leaned forward in her seat, and gestured to a plate on the table.

"Cookie?" she asked politely, watching Zandra intently for a response.

"No." she blatantly responded. The Oracle frowned a little, but didn't force it. 

"You're a talented kid," she said softly, leaning back into her chair. Zandra almost laughed at the remark: talent would have been keeping her comrades alive, keeping Alias healthy. But she had failed in both departments.

"You've gotta stop blaming yourself," the woman said, shaking her head in disapproval. Zandra sighed.

"Well, I can't help ya any more than I've tried," she said, getting up. "Just remember to stay away from the Merovingian."

Zandra paused before nodding. Seraph opened the door back up for her, and she was gone. The two walked silently down the hallway and back to the same door as before, only this time Seraph didn't go out with her. He remained by the door, and bowed slightly before closing it again behind her. So already it was over.

There had been no vengeance. There was no scuffle; no confrontation. Stephen was going to go unavenged.

If it wasn't the Oracle's fault, then it wasn't Neo's fault either. And now she just had to find him to find direction. What could she do now? What _should_ she do? Zandra suddenly felt very helpless, very worthless in the fight for humanity. What could she do except fight like the rest – that didn't make her the One. It might have been impressive to defeat Brown and Jones, but now the agents had been replaced. She would be on the same level as everyone else now.

She was back in the tearoom and departed quickly. She didn't want to be reminded of the strange fight she had fought with the man. There was still something that nagged at her about their meeting, though she could not figure out what…

There were a few people on the streets around her. Knowing that the agents could easily find her in a group, she jogged to her exit.

It was only once she had gotten to the hardline that she heard something. A door slammed below her as the phone rang, and only when she picked it up did the agent get to the room. Once he pulled out his gun, he was shooting at nothing. Zandra was lucky.

Kesia was the only one there to take out the needle and undo her fastenings. It was a change that Zandra was glad to see. Not that she was ever truly _glad _anymore…

"I think Cover'll want to see you," she told her after helping Zandra out of her chair. 

"Why?"

"It's more than just the matrix that's changed," she told her with a look of concern.

"Where is he?"

"He's in the cockpit," she told her, "You won't believe what's happening."


	3. Searching

Protector Ch 40

Everyone was jammed into the cockpit like sardines in a can. Zandra's addition was somewhat unnerving to them – it meant that they had to squish together even further so that they'd be able to fit into the small area. Cover though, was grateful that she was finally there.

"You're out," he stated, not realizing that Zandra knew the fact already, and it was obvious that she was out.

"Kesia told me to see you?"

"Look," he told her, gesturing towards one of the paneled screens on the dash. It was a radar. It showed one blue square, a few miles off, and three smaller red squares dashing about in its general direction. Zandra guessed that red wasn't good.

"What are those?" she asked.

"Sentinels," he answered, looking cautiously out of the window. "They're scanning the Attrition right now."

Everyone was silent in the cockpit, and Kesia suddenly appeared, jostling Trim and Kemp out of position. Trim gave her a nasty look, but she wasn't paying attention. 

"Sentinels?"

"Remember the EMP?" Cover asked her. He hadn't expected her to remember what Sentinels were, but only because it was extremely rare to even see one in the tunnels. That was changing quickly though.

Zandra nodded vaguely. She did remember an EMP, but only because of Trim. Hadn't he mentioned it to her, while they sat around the ship one day? _Probably so_, she wasn't sure.

"Sentinels are the machines used to destroy our ships," Alias offered. _That makes sense_, Zandra thought, nodding her head. 

"Shit," Cover suddenly voiced, "They're gonna use it – " and everyone jerked forward while he began to frantically steer the ship to the ground. Luckily the rest of the crew was so packed together that they didn't move much as the ship rocketed downwards. Alarms began to go off on the panels.

"Not yet…" he said, still moving the ship downwards. Zandra could see the sentinels getting closer to the ship on the screen. How could they not know if there was anyone there yet? Zandra was in silent confusion.

"Can we evade it?" came Kesia's voice, shoving herself to the front of the crowd. She plunked herself down into a seat next to Cover, and attempted to help him maneuver the large behemoth of a ship. 

"We're too close," was his reply, his shoulders hunched in physical concentration. Another alarm went off in the ship, startling everyone but Kesia.

"It's done," she told him. Cover quietly swore.

"Hold on everyone, we're gonna lose power soon – Kesia! Emergency power down!"

Tension was high as he continued to lower the ship. _Can't we do this faster?_ Kesia was frantically typing on the small keyboard in front of her, and the lights began to go out. Zandra looked out at the pipeways surrounding them and noticed something coming towards them. It wasn't really something, exactly, but a wave. Zandra could see the energy pulsing towards them, making the air around them look hot and made the walls look as if they were dancing. Kesia and Cover were frantic, pressing all kinds of buttons on the dash, turning dials and levers…

Suddenly everything went dead. The ship plopped onto the ground with a clunk, and everything was dark. Cover sighed loudly, then swore again.

"Did we make it?" asked Kesia, her eyes full of concern. Cover sighed again, then nodded.

"_Damn it_," he started, "They should have warned us."

Purgatory was silent. Zandra had never heard Cover swear before, and it was a frightening sight. He looked shaken, and he looked angry. 

"Kesia, go check the navigation. Trim, engines. Alias, make sure vitals are up," he paused, considering something. "Shade, you go with her."

Shade nodded in compliance, but Zandra knew that he would rather have done something else. No doubt he was getting tired of helping Alias and not getting credit for it. 

"I can do it," Alias answered firmly. She stared at Cover, as if in a contest of power. He gave in.

"Ok," he sighed, "Shade, check out EMP and Zandra, make sure we can still broadcast." Kemp would be left with nothing to do, as she was new to the ship and hadn't learned anything useful yet.

He paused, then decided he was finished. In a matter of seconds everyone had dispersed to do their various jobs – Zandra went to the main deck to check the monitors for signs of life. She recalled some of the rudimentary start-ups for the machinery, but not much else. People had to learn ship maintenance in real life, so that information couldn't be corrupted by the machines. It was alive enough; it responded to her jabs and commands with a prompt error message. After a few minutes of poking around, Shade came up to her.

"Look alright?" he asked her quietly, watching the screens intently. He pretended to be interested in the startup process, but he wasn't.

Zandra nodded.

"Mind if I take a look?" he asked, moving closer to get a look at the machinery. Zandra moved accordingly. 

He began to root through the wiring of the computers in front of them, apparently looking for something. He knew that Zandra wouldn't have known to look for the kill switch because she hadn't been trained for it, and decided to be the good guy and do it for her. Zandra watched from behind, trying to learn from his movements.

"See this?" he called, showing her a green wire, "This leads to the kill switch." Zandra nodded. "This has to be off, or else we can't go in." She nodded again, and he pulled himself out of the machine. He dusted off his hands, as if to say 'all done', and sighed.

"Looks good," he said, nodding a few times. 

"Allright then," Zandra answered. "I guess we should tell Cover."

"Yeah."

They walked back to the cockpit, Zandra not noticing when Shade had let her go in first, the gentleman that he was. Trim and Kesia were already in the cockpit with him, silent as they waited for information from Zandra and Shade.

"Broadcasting's fine," Shade said from behind her. Zandra closed her mouth and let him continue. "And so is the EMP power."

Cover nodded seriously, as did Kesia. Trim was not paying attention. Zandra heard Alias creaking towards them in her wheelchair and made room. Again, it was a tight fit.

"Vitals are fine," she started, "Though our heating coils are a little fried."

Cover's face fell. "It's going to get cold," he told them. Each crewmember subsequently sighed, either mentally or physically. None of them relished the idea of 'cold' on the ship – it was already freezing enough. Zandra didn't even know that there was a heating system on the ship, and had already missed it. 

"Cuddle up, everyone!" Kemp called out from behind them. Zandra groaned. Back to the grind. She sighed and walked out of the room, leaving Cover and Kesia to discuss their next plan of evasion, while the rest of the crew listened. She was hungry.

Trim sauntered into the mess room as she began to dig into her slop. It was definitely hard to get used to again, after two weeks' worth of solid Zion food. But it filled her stomach; it did the job.

"That was close back there," he said, joining her at the table. Zandra nodded while chewing. There wasn't much to her food. It was like chewing oatmeal.

"Worried you wouldn't get out before we had to turn off the ship," he confessed, looking up at the ceiling. A drop of slop fell from the pump and landed on the floor with a splash that almost startled Zandra. It was very quiet, and she felt that she had to fill the unexpected silence.

"Well, I was running pretty quickly," she answered, shoving another spoonful of slop into her mouth. Trim nodded a few times, his eyebrows raised. _Pretty quickly_ didn't even start to describe it. What Zandra didn't know was that a few days ago, Cover had gotten the rest of the crew together and had a meeting. Everyone learned of Zandra's one-ness. Now everyone knew her talents, her responsibilities – everyone except for her. She swallowed her mouthful.

Shade then walked in, with a faint smile on his otherwise empty face.

"Pretty close back then," he said, sitting next to Trim. He had an odd look on his face, and looked at Zandra, waiting for a response.

"That's what Trim said," she responded, pointing her spork at the now quiet Trim. He shrugged at Shade.

"So what did the Oracle say _this_ time?" he asked, trying to sound truly curious. She took a while to respond.

"Not much," she replied with a sullen glance towards the ground. Shade realized too late that it was not a good question to ask, and felt a little embarrassed. 

"She tends to speak in riddles," Trim offered. "Maybe she was just trying to confuse you."

Again, Trim's efforts at helping were dashed again. But at least it elicited a response from her.

"She said _one_ thing," she answered, holding up her index finger. _One thing_. 

"She mentioned a 'Merovingian'," she said, staring off into oblivion_. It was Merovingian, right_? Zandra vaguely remembered an old history class that had mentioned something of the sort… _Kings of France?_

"She said to not listen to what he says." She dismissed the thought, waving a careless hand in the air. "It was a little suspicious."

Trim and Shade were watching Zandra, enthralled. 

Soon afterwards, she decided to go to bed. It had been a long day, and she let lingering thoughts mill around in her jumbled brain while she tried to get some rest. She needed to figure things out. 


	4. Necessary Repetitions

Protector of Men Ch 41

_She was in a street full of people. Zandra immediately felt crowded; felt claustrophobic. It wasn't her natural reaction, but a new one created by the threat of the new agents. Now that she was in a crowd, anyone could kill her in a matter of seconds. _

She was in the middle of the street, an island in the sea of humanity. People jostled past her, going to work, to appointments, to school…

She felt the urgency grow and began to search for a way to get out. She reached for her cellphone, but it wasn't there. Dread instantly filled every inch of her – without a cellphone, she wouldn't be able to find an exit. She was blind. Panicking, she shoved her way through the mass of people, looking for a building, a car, something she could get into where there weren't as many people. It was when she got to the sidewalk that she realized her perilous state. 

"It's the anomaly," one of the agents said. He was coming at her from her left, a good twenty feet away. But he was walking quickly, and behind him were two more agents. One of them pressed his earpiece against his head, then nodded. He pulled out his gun.

_She already had hers out, and aimed it at the oncoming militia. She knew that she couldn't hit them, but perhaps she could stall them while she made a getaway. Before the agent could fire, or even aim, she unloaded a clip from her Beretta, sending the agents into a frenzy of movement. But it didn't last long. After a few seconds she had to change clips, and the agents took advantage of the extra time to chase. Guns wouldn't help her now. She needed time._

She dropped her gun to the floor and ran. She ran as hard as she could, but she could still hear the agents giving chase behind her. Though the crowd of people was thinning, there were still coppertops milling about the street, doing whatever was necessary in their pointless lives… __

A person in front of her screamed and dropped her things. A second later she was another agent. Zandra skidded to a halt, narrowly missing the new agent in front of her. She was surrounded, and the agents were closing in. What do I do now?

She woke up covered in sweat, moving uncomfortably in her light sheets. Despite it being damn near freezing in Purgatory, Zandra felt hot. She found it a little ironic that Purgatory was always so cold – the waiting room between eternal life and death… she just thought it would be more lukewarm, not bone-chillingly cold. Not to say that she was religious, just curious.

She got out of bed and immediately regretted it. Without her body heat pervading into her thin bed, the air quickly chilled the sweat on her sleepy body and made her shiver. She grabbed her other sweater from a rack and pulled it over her. The feeling of her cold sweat almost made her sick.

Not that her dream hadn't made her sick in the first place. It had confirmed what she had been worrying about lately: the new agents. They would get to her if she wasn't careful. People were dying now because of them. They were better, they were faster, they were everything Brown and Jones weren't.

The hallways were relatively quiet as she wandered her way through Purgatory. Zandra guessed that it was fairly early in the morning, but wasn't sure. She didn't have a watch – not many people did – and Central Matrix Time wasn't a help to them. 

Cover was sitting in Kesia's seat, watching the matrix. Zandra was a little surprised to see him there, but only a little. He had a cup of some drink with him, and was casually sipping from it. He smiled and nodded when he noticed Zandra approaching.

"Up early," he noted, still staring at the screens.

"Bad dreams," she answered, now also staring at the screens. She noticed that there wasn't much going on in the matrix – a few people walking the streets, many sleeping, she could even detect the movement of elusive agents every now and then…

"I see," he answered. They were both silent.

"I want to do more agent training," she suddenly blurted. Cover was surprised.

"Why?"

"New agents."

Cover sighed. 

"We updated out program once the agents did, so it shouldn't be a problem. Are you sure though?"

Zandra took a second before answering. 

"Yes."

He nodded.

"We can do it today, but we'll have to wait until Kesia is up. She should be out soon." Zandra thanked him and wandered over to the mess room, hoping that maybe the lights and presence of food would mean that the room would be warmer. Even just thinking of heat gave her the fleeting feeling of warm air, however brief it was. But it gave her the same satisfying feeling, so she didn't question it. For the moment, ignorance was bliss.

She ate a little while in the mess room. _Might as well_ – she figured that she'd work up a nasty appetite once she was in the training program. She didn't finish, and played with her food for a while in hopes of wasting time. She twirled the spork around in her fingers, leaving messy slop trails along the bottom of her bowl. She tried to draw a heart with it, but scribbled it out after a few unsuccessful attempts. Thankfully, Kesia appeared in a few minutes.

"I'm training today," Zandra told her instantly. Kesia watched her intently, as if asking her to explain.

"More agent training," she continued. Kesia nodded in comprehension.

"Now?" she asked. Zandra nodded.

It looked like Chinatown, but Zandra couldn't be sure. All she could tell was that it was a crowded town with stony streets and oriental buildings lining the sidewalks. There were some clothes hanging from lines between buildings, some flowers nestled under windows. It was almost picturesque, and Zandra had to remind herself that she was there to train. To kill. 

She had no weapons, and knew that she would have to find them fast. She quickly went into a building to her left in search of something. Kesia had warned her that she'd be unarmed, and Zandra was prepared. As long as she could find something quickly, she'd be allright.

The room was rather empty – an entryway, by the looks of it. There was a red wooden bench to her left, an open doorway in front of her, a coat closet to her right. She checked the closet. 

"Bingo," she said aloud, taking the guns out of the closet. A Beretta, two nicely made Skorpions… Zandra smiled as she stuffed them in her belt. She was well equipped now. Zandra then decided to leave the building, knowing that the agents would find her soon. She'd rather be in an open area, full of escapes, rather than be stuck in a small room with three deadly agents. She knew that they couldn't _kill _her, but she still didn't want to get caught. After all, this _was _training.

She opened the door, holding her Beretta at eye level. 


	5. A Different Kind of Deja Vu

Protector of Men Ch 42

She opened the door to a street full of people. She stepped out, ignoring the voice in her head telling her not to step into the raging tide of people… Zandra immediately felt crowded, felt claustrophobic. It wasn't her natural reaction, but a new one created by the threat of the new agents. Now that she was in a crowd, anyone could kill her in a matter of seconds. Everyone was deadly.

She was in the middle of the street, an island in the sea of humanity. People jostled past her, going to work, to appointments, to school…

She felt the urgency grow and began to search for a way to get out. Even the building would have been safer than on the ground, just waiting to be attacked. She reached for her cellphone, but it wasn't there. Dread instantly filled every inch of her – without a cellphone, she wouldn't be able to get out, wouldn't be able to find an exit. She was blind. Panicking, she shoved her way through the crowd, looking for a building, a car, something she could get into where there weren't as many people. It was when she got to the sidewalk that she realized her perilous state. 

"It's the anomaly," one of the agents said. He was coming at her from her left, a good twenty feet away. But he was walking quickly, and behind him were two more agents. One of them pressed his earpiece against his head, then nodded. He pulled out his gun.

She already had hers out, and aimed it at the oncoming militia. She knew that she couldn't hit them, but perhaps she could stall them while she made a getaway. Before the agent could fire, or even aim, she unloaded a clip from her Beretta, sending the agents into a frenzy of movement. But it didn't last long. After a few seconds she had to change clips, and the agents took advantage of the extra time to chase. Guns wouldn't help Zandra now. She needed time.

_Time is of the essence!_

She dropped her gun to the ground and ran. She ran as hard as she could, but she could still hear the agents giving chase behind her. Though the crowd of people was thinning, there were still coppertops milling about the street, doing whatever was necessary in their _pointless_ lives…

A person in front of her screamed and dropped her things. A second later she was another agent. Zandra skidded to a halt, narrowly missing the new agent in front of her. She was surrounded, and the agents were closing in. _What do I do now?_

She looked up. There was a line of clothes hanging to dry between the two buildings she was surrounded by. There was only one way to get out, and only a few more seconds to do it. Relying on instinct, she ran left, towards the wall. She didn't run up, but reversed direction. The agents were close behind her as she jumped off the wall and up – and the agent dodged out of her way so that they wouldn't be hit by a flying kick. But Zandra wasn't thinking of attacking. She was thinking of fleeing, and fleeing only. Maybe when she was in a safer position would she decide to take the offensive.

She took hold of the line above her and pulled. It held her weight, but just barely. She pulled her leg into the window above her, but didn't go in. For all she knew, there were more people in there that could turn into agents, and she'd be gone in a second. The roof was only a few feet above her.

The agents were close behind, synchronizing their movement to their advantage. Two of them disposed of themselves, leaving one agent trailing Zandra, and two people thoroughly confused. They were transfixed by the agent, who made a clean jump from the ground all the way to the ceiling which Zandra had just climbed onto. She stood up and readied herself for whatever awaited.

_Anticipate, anticipate_, she told herself. _You have to be ready for anything!_

She was waiting for him as the agent landed on the roof. A second later she was on the ground, struggling to get back up. Her head was hanging over the edge of the building – and if she had been hit only a little harder, she would have fallen. Zandra twisted her way up quickly as the agent approached. _Watch him!_ She told herself. She wouldn't miss another move. 

Zandra saw the man flinch as he came up to her, realized that it meant he would move. She dodged to the right, watching his punch land – no_, miss_ her by a few inches. He was fast, but his aim wasn't great. Faster was only a state of mind. If she could keep moving quick enough, she'd be safe - as long as there were no surprises.

But she was still in danger. She stood only a few inches from thin air; the edge of the building loomed ominously behind her. If the agent were able to hit her, she'd fall off the building, and that would be hard to undo. She kept her distance and circled the now angry agent, turning the tides. He was now the one against the wall; she just had to hit him. 

She tried to kick him, but he dodged it in a blur of movement. She had to do something more, _but what?_ She saw him flinch again and moved backwards, this time dodging a punch to the chest. The agent was growing furious; Zandra becoming desperate.

She pulled out her Skorpions from her belt. She knew he could dodge bullets, but could he do that and dodge her at the same time? It was worth exploring. She let the bullets rip, and just as she had expected, the agent went into a blur of dodging movement. She slowly advanced as she continued to fire – hoping that she wouldn't run out of ammunition – and kicked his legs out from under him. The agent toppled forward, still dodging her fire.

He began to look strange, but Zandra was not deterred. She fiercely kicked his downed body off the edge of the building, a flash temporarily stunning her into stillness. She looked down, and there was only a woman splayed on the ground. The agent had abandoned the host before he was killed. It was a cheap move.

Zandra heard a thump behind her and turned around. It was another agent. A moment later, a second joined him. One began firing his Eagle, while the other approached. Zandra dodged some of the bullets, but was also occupied with the agent coming at her. In her struggle, she was unable to keep him from knocking her off of the building. It happened quickly, but the fall was slow. She watched the agents shrink as she fell through the sky.

She was in the air, falling. _Again._ She felt the rushing in the pit of her stomach, felt adrenaline pumping in her veins, felt her pulse rocket, as if her body were trying to break itself open. And then it was over.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt just _existing_. Zandra lay in a heap on the ground, staring up at the sky as if wondering where she had come from. She looked over – _oh, how much it hurt_ – and the agents were coming again. She knew they wouldn't shoot from a distance. No, they would wait until they were good and close so that they would have the pleasure of shooting point blank. So they could relish the exact moment of death.

_Stephen._

No!

How did Stephen die? She asked herself angrily, because it was real. _It's not real!_

She pulled herself up off the street and spat the blood out of her mouth. It flew in a red jet that landed a few feet short of the agents' shiny black shoes. Anger pulsed through her digital body. The agents stopped running and pulled out their guns. Her own guns had been smashed in the fall, leaving her utterly weaponless for the moment. She wasn't thinking about it though. She was only thinking of destroying them.

They began to shoot, but again it was useless. Zandra let the bullets drop feet in front of her. They showered her, and fell like water from a tree –leaping to the ground with an aqueous clink. The agents waited a moment, then advanced. They wouldn't have any idea what hit them. But it would be Zandra.


	6. Change of Mind

Protector of Men Ch 43

She was taken out soon after that. Cover had decided that her combat was definitely sufficient. She wouldn't need any more – she didn't even need any to begin with. Cover had seen Zandra shot at, and unscathed. He saw her defeat the first agents. He trusted in her. She'd win. She was the One, she _had_ to. Zandra had left fairly quietly, but was stopped by Trim before she could retreat to her bunk.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" he asked meekly. Zandra considered it before answering.

"Yeah, what?"

"I need someone to hold up my stuff while I check out the heater," he answered, picking up a toolbox from the ground. Zandra accepted it with a grunt – it was a heavy box. She was hastily reminded that in the real world, she wasn't strong. In fact, she was probably weaker than almost anyone else on the ship. But she shouldered the weight, not wanting to be embarrassed. Trim led her down the dark hallways of the ship, and through a door labeled 'Mechanical'. 

"If you can just stay down there," he asked politely, pointing to a spot on the ground, "I'll be up there." He then pointed up the wall to a large machine, next to it was a ladder that Trim started to clamber up.

"Okay," Zandra answered, a little confused. _What was he doing again?_

"Ah, can you hand me a two-load wrench?" he asked, taking a panel off of the big machine. It was fairly big, and Trim had to shift all of his weight to be able to hoist it off of the wall. He dropped it off the platform he stood on, and it landed with a loud clunk. 

"What was that?"

"Two load wrench?" he repeated, "It's silver with a rectangle handle."

Zandra rummaged through the box, looking for the tool. It took her a few moments, and Trim was about to describe it again when she pulled it out in triumph. 

"Here," she said slowly, getting up to hand it to him. He thanked her and went to pulling off the second layer of the machine's protection. 

"What have you done today?" he asked, meddling with the wrench.

"Ah," she replied, "More agent training."

Trim nodded in silence while continuing to work. "Why?"

"New agents," she replied. 

"Hell," he continued, "If you're getting training for them, I should just _stop_ going in."

Zandra snorted. "I just wasn't sure."

Trim was quiet as he continued to work. Zandra's comment had struck a nasty chord that reverberated in his mind. _She didn't feel comfortable?_ He was suddenly getting the feeling that maybe going into the matrix wasn't as great as he originally thought. His enjoyment of it had been fleeting _enough _– he was only allowed to go in once Alias had been injured, and now – only a few weeks later – it was so dangerous that he might not want to go in. He was back to feeling almost useless again, but at least he could work on the ship.

He finished taking off the inner protection and pushed it aside, revealing the inner workings of Purgatory's heaters. Trim looked around for a second, then recoiled in surprise.

"There's _nothing_ wrong with this," he commented, scratching his neck with his wrench.

"What?"

"The coils are fine," he told her, a look of confusion on his face.

"She _did_ say the coils were fried, didn't she?"

"Alias?"

"Yeah."

Zandra was having trouble recalling what she had said. 

"Yeah, I think so."

"Hm." Trim tapped the wrench against his chin in thought.

"I guess it could have been an easy mistake," he added with a shrug. He rummaged around some more, and recoiled again.

"What?" Zandra asked. Trim looked at her in wonder.

"It's still been on, too," he answered. Zandra blinked. 

"I guess it hasn't been that cold," she said quietly, halfway to herself. Trim nodded.

"Well I guess that's it then," he said, putting on the covers again. He came down from the ladder and took the toolbox from Zandra.

"I'll put these away, can you tell Cover that heat is on?"

"Yeah,"

"Thanks," he replied with a gracious smile, and left. Zandra went off to find Cover. He was in the cockpit.

"Trim says heat is up," she told him. He gave her a look of confusion.

"He said it was never down to begin with," she continued. Cover sighed, then nodded.

"Keep that quiet," he told her. Zandra knew what he meant. He sighed again.

"Did the Oracle see you?" he asked, turning towards her. She nodded. He motioned for her to sit down next to him, and she took his offer. The seat was unforgiving.

"What did she say?" he asked. Zandra waited a second before responding. 

"She was very cryptic." 

"She tends to be, I hear."

Zandra took a second again to regroup. Even _she_ wasn't quite sure what the Oracle had told her. 

"She mainly talked about Stephen. Tevy. How it changed things."

It was Cover's turn to digest the words that now hung in the air. They both looked down for a moment, but then Cover looked back up.

"She talked about something else?"

"Merovingian," she said, almost posing it as a question. Cover's brows furrowed in thought.

"She said he would contact us, but that we shouldn't listen. She said he was dangerous."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"That was all?"

"Yeah…" came her slow reply. She was staring off into space, and Cover knew that something more was on her mind.

"What?" he asked her, curious.

"Nothing," she replied slowly, still staring off into space, "It just seemed very strange. I don't know if I believe her."

Cover nodded again, but didn't respond. He was a little bit suspicious that the reason why Zandra didn't trust the lady was only because of Tevy's death. Zandra suddenly spoke again.

"I wish," she started, shaking her head in frustration, "I wish Neo would show up."

Cover was quiet. Again.

"I want to search for him," She told him, now looking him fiercely in the eye. Cover held her gaze, and nodded once. He then got up and led her into the main deck again, where Kesia was at the computers. She smiled when they entered, though it was weak. 

"Zandra's going in for the informant," Cover told her, a hand on Zandra's shoulder. It was a fatherly thing to do, and neither of them realized the meaning of it. Kesia nodded, and Cover turned to Zandra.

"You are going in for direction, but nothing more," he told her, "Don't lose your life for it."

Zandra nodded, a bit perplexed by his sudden seriousness. Nonetheless, she went to her chair and strapped herself in for the trip. 

"Same place?" Kesia asked. Zandra nodded. 

"Be careful then," she added before turning back to the computers. Zandra sighed. She didn't even flinch when the needle went in. Everything went dark, and then faded back in. She was all the way back in the slums. Zandra had the feeling that she was beginning to go in circles – Neo, the Oracle, death, the Oracle, Neo…

"I'm in."


	7. Clues

Protector of Men Ch 44

Everything looked so familiar to her that she felt comfortable in the building. She remembered a time when she had come in with the rest of her crew, a time when she had been amazed at their different appearances that the matrix had rendered, a wholly different time than that of now. She put her cellphone in the belt of her leather pants and straightened her black leather jacket. It was going to be a long jack.

She had already decided to hotwire a motorcycle, she just didn't know which one. She remembered that there was a garage nearby, and hot-footed it there. She didn't want to be caught before she had a secure mode of transportation.

The garage was packed, and Zandra felt lucky. There were many to choose from.

_A Harley Sportster!_ She smiled broadly, admiring the work of machinery. It would work well on the street. It wasn't a Ducati, but it was fast. _Fast enough._ Zandra hotwired the bike with ease and set out of the garage, popping a wheelie for effect. Kesia would enjoy that. She had no helmet, but did not worry. She didn't need one in the Matrix.

Liberté Street was what she was looking for. She remembered the grungy district, with its vociferous whores – Zandra recalled when one of them had turned into an agent in her most vulnerable time. It could have almost been funny, if it weren't so scary. 

The power in the machine lifted her spirits. She enjoyed feeling the rumble of the engine underneath her, the sound of the processes that kept her moving… she was speeding down the abandoned streets quickly, enjoying the rush she got from each sharp turn. Her hair whipped behind her head, soon falling out of the tight ponytail that she had put it in earlier – but she didn't care. For the moment, she was actually enjoying herself.

In a few minutes she was at Liberté. She pulled herself off of her motorcycle (a bit reluctantly,) and gazed at the building in front of her. _So familiar_. Zandra was actually amazed that she had remembered where the place was – wasn't there supposed to be some kind of protection so that people couldn't find out where he was? Zandra hoped that he would still be there.

_Third door, second left, first right, third door_. She secured her guns in her belt while she wandered forward. There was no telling when the agents would come. Luckily, Kesia had uploaded a few… _niceties_… before Zandra jacked in. A nice pair of MP5K's, and one power-packing SPAS-12 that she carried in her arms. It was a bit heavy, but she didn't mind it. Zandra felt comfortable knowing that with her shotgun, it would take the agents a while to defeat her weaponry.

_Second left_. The hallways were so familiar that it gave Zandra an eerie feeling of continual deja-vu, leaving her helpless if a glitch had occurred. Kesia would keep her updated.

_First right. _

_Third door_. Zandra looked up to the ceiling panel above her – the wooden squares were back in their place again. _Third panel, second row?_ Zandra thought that was right. She poked the square with her shotgun and a key fell to the floor. Zandra smiled as she picked it up, _I'm almost here, Neo!_

She unlocked the door and peeked in. It was the same as last time – well lit, white walls, a cherry wood conference table in front of her. Zandra smiled as she remembered the plants, but her smile fell immediately. The chair at the end of the table was turned as before. She had a bad feeling about it, and raised her shotgun in anticipation.

"Turn around," she told the chair. She didn't know who was behind it, and almost dreaded who it would be. _You can defeat them!_

The chair spun around – it certainly was an agent. He pressed his earpiece against his head for a moment, then jumped out of his chair. He leaned forward, onto the table, and Zandra got ready to move. She leaped into the air right as the table went skidding her way and into the wall she had just been standing against. She landed with a soft thump on the table, her shotgun still aiming at the program. He sneered, then made for her. 

"Not so fast," she mocked, firing a few shots. The agent couldn't move any further, being that he was dodging bullets that Zandra was shooting. She walked up to him, continuing to fire her high-power missiles. She didn't expect that he'd be able to trip her while dodging her actions.

She fell with a thud on the ground and fired an accidental shot into the wall in front of her. The agent held his Eagle to her head.

"Only human." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Eat _this_," she told him, aiming her shotgun and tripping him to the ground. In a second she had pulled out her MP5K's and trained them on his body. He sneered. She fired.

But the agent had already left his host, and Zandra ended up firing on a young boy. He must have only been 13, he was so young. He shook uncontrollably on the ground, nursing his new wounds. She was horrified, and stepped away from his writhing body. He was screaming.

"I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_," she repeated, stepping away slowly. He continued to cry in agony.

"_I'm sorry_," she whispered, and shot him in the head. He died instantly. Zandra sighed wearily and slumped to the ground. _Another one gone._

She pulled herself up slowly and looked around. Soon enough the wall would be opening up, she'd see Neo and find the path to take. She shoved her guns back into her belt and waited. But the door did not appear.

In its place words came. They flowed like paint on the wall, appearing across its face as if someone was writing them. They appeared as dark paint, a black stain on the previously white walls. Some of the words bled, leaving others only somewhat readable. Zandra watched in wonder as they revealed themselves on the whitewash surface of the room.

"_Gaul of the New World Order, Spawn of Quinotaur. Owner of many, a self-enslaved apostate. The Grail is at the Terrible Place: The House of God and the Gateway to Heaven. The Protector of Men will Endure_." 

Zandra observed the writing disappear as quickly as it had appeared, painting a mental picture of it in her mind before it faded away completely. She was stunned.

A loud banging thrust her out of her mind and back into reality. Someone was pounding on the door and couldn't get in. _Where to go_, she thought. There was only one door that led out. Fortunately, without a key, whoever was trying to get in wouldn't be able to. Zandra just hoped that it wasn't another agent. If it was, she'd have to move fast again. _Faster_. She didn't want to end up shooting a civilian again. 

She stepped next to the door and waited a few moments. The banging was only getting louder. She aimed her shotgun at the door. Two blasts, and there was no door handle anymore.

Smith barged in immediately, knocking the table away from the door as if it were nothing. He wore a look of fury on his face. He looked at Zandra and stepped up right next to her, his head cocked a little to one side. He suddenly whipped his head to the left, looking at something intently. 

It was another agent. 

"_Jackson_," Smith wheezed. The agent looked away, pressing his earpiece against his head again. Zandra stood there watching the two. Something big was about to happen. 

The two flew at each other quickly, but Zandra watched it moment by moment. They matched each other's moves identically until they collided, and then they rolled about on the ground for a few moments. After that, Zandra became distracted.

Smith came in again – no, _was that another Smith_? Zandra was overwhelmed. He too jumped in, the door swinging on its hinges behind him. So it was true: there was more than one of this man? Surely he'd be dangerous… but thankfully he wasn't interested in Zandra. He moved over to the first Smith and Jackson, and joined in on the fight. Zandra drew into a corner of the room, her shotgun loosely trained on the scuffling men, her MP5K on the door. 

But the party was about to get much wilder.


	8. Desperate to Know

Protector Ch 45

Another agent had come in to join the fight. He took absolutely no heed of Zandra, but instead proceeded to fight with Jackson against the two Smiths. Smith, unfortunately, had the upper hand. 

_Maybe I can slink away…_ Zandra thought, assessing the situation. If the agents won, Zandra would be hard pressed to get out alive. If Smith won… she didn't know what would happen. Either way, it wouldn't be fun. _Or easy_. So she opted for the third choice, which was to try and get out of the building while they were still fighting it out. She quietly tucked her MP5K back into her belt and inched her way out of the room. They didn't pay attention as she left, being that they were still busy with their battle.

_Down the hallway, first left - or was that right?_ She turned the corner, and there was Smith. She skidded to a halt and was stunned completely still for a moment.

"Miss…." He started, then gave up. "I believe you have some _information_ that I _request_."

Zandra didn't wait for him to finish. Something strange was going on, and she didn't want to be attacked where she wouldn't be able to move. _Have to get outside!_ She pushed past him and down the hallway, her shotgun waving loose in her hand. Smith wouldn't chase her – he was torn between two urgent appointments, and he had to help in the fight. What he didn't realize was that every time Smith's stepped into the room, it would trigger the addition of a new agent. The fight would be continual until he realized his error.

Zandra ran unaccompanied into the street. Her motorcycle was gone. She began to panic, her eyes searching hopefully, praying, _maybe it was moved… maybe I forgot…_ but it was nowhere. There was no way for her to get back to the exit, unless she ran. _That would take too long._

She shot her extra rounds into the building across from her, knowing that it would be no use to her any longer; she'd have to run weaponless. She also knew that in the hands of one of the agents… or _that man_… she could be killed. There were only two rounds left, and she was thankful. There was no use making extra noise when she was attempting to be stealthy. 

She pulled out her cellphone, hoping that Kesia would have direction.

"Where do I go?" she asked once connected. 

"There's a car a few blocks ahead of you," she offered. 

"Hey," she added fervently, "Stay away from that guy in the building,"

"What _is_ he?"

"I don't know, but he's copying himself. There's gonna be a lot of him if you don't hurry."

"Ok."

She closed her cellphone and put it back into her pocket. She sighed before starting off, taking a gun in each hand. She didn't want to risk them discharging, or falling once she started running. _Time to be fast_, she thought as she began to sprint down the street. There were no agents to chase her, but another man was looking on with interest.

She ran down the street as fast as she could, and a little faster than that. The decrepit buildings flew by as she sprinted down the pebbly causeway to her escape. It would only be a minute until she'd be able to drive to the exit. _Only a little further…_

Smith stepped out in front of her and smiled. She was only just able to move out of the way and continue running, pushing herself to go faster. _Don't get caught!_

Smith stepped out again and smiled broader. He was getting harder to avoid – and if there really _were_ a lot of him… Zandra's situation was beginning to look bleak. 

"Watch out," he told her with another cold smile. Zandra watched him as she ran past.

Everything stopped.

She tried to breathe, but couldn't. She was on the ground; she knew _that_, but how? She tried to breathe again, and her lungs reinflated. She took in a few grateful sucks of air, then looked to see what had happened. 

The man stood in front of her, his arms crossed.

"Oh no," Kesia said, staring at the screens.

"What?" Kemp asked innocently. Kesia continued to look at the screens in distress.

"Get Cover," she ordered. "Now."

"Who are you?" Zandra asked, propping herself up on her arms. She knew that she couldn't get away by running. He knew it too, and was ecstatic. He was in power again. It would only be a little while before he could finish his task and complete his duty….

"I am Smith," he told her, a ghoulish smile creeping across his visage. 

"You're _all_ Smith?" 

"_Precisely_."

"What do you want?"

"Excellent question, Ms. _Richards_," he answered, hoping that she'd pick up on his new knowledge. She didn't, which was typical. _Stupid animals_, he thought to himself.

"I want _everything_."

He suddenly stopped, stepped back, and frowned. His answer reminded him of a time long ago. A time he would rather not have remembered; a time with _Mr. Anderson - _the root of all his anguish. He shoved the feeling in the back of his mind. _Your mission is to find information_. 

Cover arrived at Kesia's station already worried. She wouldn't have sent for him unless Zandra was in trouble. He looked at her, searching for a reason.

"That guy's got her," she said, pointing at one of the screens. Cover took a tentative look and bit his knuckle. He didn't know if he could risk losing anything more at Zandra's expense… but she was in trouble. 

"Set it up," he told her, stepping back resolutely, "I'm getting Shade in."

"You know where Mister _Anderson_ is."

"_Who_ now?"

He shuddered. "Neo," he managed with a grimace. Zandra didn't hesitate to answer.

"I still don't know, okay?"

"Ms. Richards," he warned, putting a heavy foot on her leg, "You know enough."

She gasped at the sudden pain, but tried to ignore it. _It's not real_. Zandra noticed that he wore the same shoe as the previous agents did. For some reason, it was significant. 

"Look, there was something about a 'Gaul of the New World', some 'Terrible place'?" Smith stared, and the pressure persisted. "Look, I _don't know_ - he's disappeared." Smith detected fear in her voice. He savored it. He _relished_ it. He wanted so much to know what it was like to _kill_ again…

But now was not the time. Everything would happen when it was right, and there was no use in ruining his chance while he was still free, still able to fulfill his original duty. Zandra's eyes revealed her panic as he stood enveloped in himself, his two sides arguing on whether to have his fill now, or wait. Logic prevailed, and he decided to wait.

The thing that angered him the most was that he could not tell if she was lying. So many things had been stripped of him when –_Neo_- had destroyed his being… but the connection to the mainframe was the worst. He was reduced to almost nothing. _Almost human…_ – but he threw away the thought immediately. He was still a sentient program. He would never stoop as low as the humans; he just _couldn't_. 

Yet since he had been 'unplugged', certain… _amenities_… had been stolen from him. He was reduced to merely _hearing_ his foes on approach, merely _watching_ his enemies attack, merely asking, _pleading_ for information… It was an existence that he abhorred. But it was existence.

He sighed angrily and stepped backwards, his foot off of Zandra. She waited a second before attempting to get up. Smith's actions were definitely strange, bordering on _psychotic_ – as Zandra figured it. It sounded like he had a serious vendetta against Neo. She knew now that he wasn't working on her side. He was just as deadly as the new agents, if not more. Who knew what would happen if he did to her what he had done to the agents in that room…

She shuddered as she pulled herself to her feet. Smith stood in front of her, a look of contempt on his face. Zandra tried not to imagine why.

"Smith!" she heard someone call, and she turned around to see who it was. It was another agent again. Smith turned too, and adjusted his tie before running at the man. They were going to fight again, which meant Zandra had a chance to flee.


	9. Trustworthy Transportation

Protector of Men Ch 46

"Kesia, we need to get in," Cover told her. She was fumbling around the computer interfaces, trying to get them available for upload. It was slow business without someone to help her. 

"Sorry," she answered quietly, moving over to their chairs. Kemp stood watch quietly, knowing that soon, she'd have to help. Kemp was a bit nervous to put in the needles; she was still afraid of them herself. Kesia strapped in the two men's arms and motioned for Kemp to come.

"Just all the way in," she advised her, stepping back into her operating chair. Kemp nodded quietly, her eyes wide in fear. Slowly she began to insert the needle, but she finished with a quick thrust. Shade grimaced as he uploaded into the matrix.

She was running as fast as she could. She didn't care anymore if the guns accidentally discharged, and jammed them back into her belt. Suddenly the need for a holster was much more pressing than before.

The car was only a few yards in front of her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she approached the vessel – it was a POS, but it was a car. That meant she'd be able to move faster, and time was of the essence.

The door was locked, but she punched a hole through the window and unlocked it quickly. Vanity was not a question now – it was survival. The only question now was how to hotwire the machine. Zandra had remembered the upload, and got to work.

"We're in," Cover told Kesia. He then hung up and looked out the door. He sighed.

"We have to find her quickly," he told Shade. Shade nodded in agreement.

"Be careful."

It was taking too long. Zandra worked feverishly, but the wiring wasn't working. The model was too old – the wires were beginning to fall apart and there was rust on its interface. Beads of sweat soon formed on her brow as she toiled away at the machine. She looked outside. Smiths were running. She worked harder, her fingers tripping over each other as she clipped some, tied others. It was taking too much time.

Cover and Shade were in the garage, and hurrying. They took the first car they could find – an old Pontiac GTO. It wasn't the best, but it was fast. Shade had to admit that he didn't mind, and felt a little bad that Cover was going to drive. But someone had to be the gunner. Shade pulled out his gas gun – an obvious pick from him. It was powerful, deadly, and different. Cover started the engine and they were on their way, Shade leaning out the window every few moments. 

"Be on the lookout."

Zandra gave up on the car. There wasn't enough time for her to get away by hotwiring, it was just taking too long. And the Smiths were fast – perhaps even too fast for her to handle.

She abandoned the vehicle and looked around her for an escape route. The roads were too open, too dangerous for her to just run down. She'd need an alternate route. Her eyes stopped on a fire escape ladder on a building near her. _Rooftops?_ That sounded good.

She took one last look at the coming onslaught before fleeing. There were four of them, and it looked like they were running to _her_. They were still a ways off, but they were coming quickly. _No time to waste_, she told herself. She ran to the building and up the rungs of the ladder, the Smiths gaining. 

The view was much different on the roof. Zandra had a hard time feeling as tense up there, nothing barring her from just reaching up and touching the sky…

But there was no time for that. The Smiths were climbing up the ladders already, Zandra only twenty feet ahead. She'd have to get moving. 

Luckily, the roof was flat, and fairly large. She'd be able to get a good running start before she'd have to leap to another building. The task seemed a little daunting, but Zandra threw away as much fear as she could muster. As long as it was all in her head, then confidence was 99% of the battle. If she couldn't believe, then she would have already lost. But she not only believed, she _knew._ No one could deny her talent.

The loose concrete crunched under her feet, and went sailing in arcs behind her as she ran. One of the Smiths was finally up, and gave chase once he realized that she was getting away. He wouldn't let her escape yet – not when he still needed information! He had been so close to knowing, so close to finally getting to Neo, fulfilling his duty and having the slate wiped clean…

The edge was getting closer; Zandra was preparing for the jump. _Just like the upload_, she told herself, building up her energy. _Just like before_. There were now three up on the roof, and more coming. _Almost there._

She closed her eyes as she vaulted herself off of the building and into the air. Up, up, higher in the air she flew as the Smiths pursued her. She felt exhilarated by the wind whipping her hair behind her, causing her clothes to ripple and cascade, the rush of it leaving her breathless as she sailed towards the next building. In a moment she had landed, and rolled before continuing to run. She smiled unconsciously as she continued to flee. It was almost enjoyable.

This building wasn't as hospitable though. Its raised ceilings gave her quite a workout as she ran up and down the steep inclines and away from Smith. But he held on, and was still pursuing. 

"Will we be there soon?"

"Be patient."

But Cover wasn't being entirely patient himself. He kept fidgeting in his chair, and it was clear to both of them that the present situation was dire. If they didn't find Zandra… she would definitely be dead. They didn't want to think about what they'd do to her before that.

They were almost to the building, and driving fast. It would only be a few minutes until they arrived. 

Zandra could sense that they were coming; whether it was hearing or something _more_, she did not know - or care. What did matter was that they were coming, and if she didn't tell them where she was, they'd drive right past her. Now she could see them driving down the street next to the buildings, coming quickly. She'd have to do something drastic. 

She stopped running for a moment to observe her surroundings. Five Smiths approaching from one direction, the car from another. _A little longer_, she pleaded, _just a little more…_

Smith was becoming confused. Why was this girl standing there? Was she really this naive to think he wouldn't capture her? _She should be running,_ he raged, _I am dangerous_! He growled at her while approaching, which caught Zandra a little off guard. It was disconcerting to hear six identical men growl at her while in pursuit. 

There was only one thing to do – only one thing she _could_ do. Zandra turned to the left and threw herself off of the building. She let the wind take her as long as it would.

Smith watched in silent wonder. _What is she doing?_

And then he saw the car.

Shade and Cover continued in silence as they advanced on the building. 

"Do we know where she is?" asked Shade. Cover didn't respond, but Shade already knew the answer. He dreaded the search that they would have to do. There were still agents buzzing the place, and with this new guy, they wouldn't know what to do. Everything was a mystery.

Zandra continued to soar through the air. Much of her cares were cast out in the wind, and by now she had let it decide her future. If Smith followed, then he would follow. It was out of her hands now. She tentatively opened her eyes for a moment, wondering how long the ecstasy would last, and found herself fifty feet in the air, soaring towards Shade and Cover. They wouldn't see her coming. 

She landed with a crash onto their hood, and looked at Cover. He detected a hint of mischief on her breathless face. Shade stared with his mouth half-open. She was simply kneeling on the front of their now-dented car, as if in the starting position for a race. Her hair was in her face, but not obstructively so. Shade was blown away. 

"We're getting you out," Cover told her, braking. She nodded, then looked around. She was searching for Smith, but didn't find him. Cover blindly steered the car around and started heading back towards the garage. Zandra decided to move, and instead kneeled in front of Shade. Shade was silent, his eyes unblinking.

Smith had given up for the moment. He led his rage subside; he'd need it later. Zandra would have her time, and so would he. Smith would just have to wait until the right opportunity. 

"I'm sorry," he said to another Smith, and promptly killed him. 

The agents were just as aggravated. The three had failed _both_ of their temporary missions: to eliminate the exile, and to get rid of the rebels. Smith was becoming a problem again. One that they _didn't _enjoy working with. He wasn't only a rogue, but an older version of what _they_ were – and he was evading them successfully. It made them look bad. They'd need more help. It was time to create history.


	10. Informative Conversations

Protector of Men Ch 47

__

"Relax for a second," she told him. "They won't look for us for a long time." She patted him on the leg, and he looked away.

"How do you know it will work?"

"Believe me pal, I know."

"But she didn't complete the transition-" __

"Things will work out, don't worry about it." She paused, and pulled out a cigarette. "She'll think of something."

"But how will she move forward if she hasn't completed the transition?"

"I tried, I tried, but she wouldn't take it." She lit her cigarette and took two quick puffs before continuing. "But she knows what she's doing."

"Do you think she knows too much?"

"It's a toughie - I don't know yet. She's bright, I'll give her that, but I don't know if she'll figure it out. There's a lot she needs to be told."

He nodded, closing his eyes.

"There's no telling how she'll react, but there's nothing we can do."

"We can wait."

"Yep," she finished, taking a big breath from her cigarette. She blew it out slowly, forming a thin stream of smoke that slowly drifted through the room. She sighed. 

"Times are a-changing."

A darkened room. A lavish surrounding. A curtained window. Marble floors, gold leaf ceilings. Velvet draperies, silken sheets. A man standing in front of a window, looking out. Alone in mind, but not in his reality. He looks to the side, as if registering the observer, but then looks back through the window as if nothing had happened. The window reveals mountains. The curtains close, and all is dark. 

Zandra woke up a few hours later, having forgotten her dream. She was thoroughly awake, having slept over ten hours since she had gotten out of the matrix. Cover had suggested that she take a break, but Zandra had insisted otherwise. It was only when Cover _ordered_ her to go to bed that she obeyed. But once she hit the bed, she was glad that she did. She slept long, and though she had dreams, did not remember them. 

Shade was hanging out in the hallway outside her door. He had been there for the past few hours, patiently waiting for her to get up. He wanted to talk with her. To tell her how great she had been, how great she was, _is…_

Zandra emerged from her cocoon rubbing her eyes sleepily; a habit she still held from her old life. 

"Hey," Shade called from across the hall, quickly coming to her once he realized she was awake. Zandra smiled smally.

"Morning," she replied. She yawned, and Shade followed suit.

"Yesterday was crazy," he told her, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, hoping that she'd open up.

"Yeah," she answered honestly. "I'm glad you came to get me out."

"We came as quick as we could- not saying you needed any _help_…" Shade mentally smacked himself; He was sounding worse with every passing moment.

"It _was_ getting wild though," she answered. Zandra tried to restrain herself from talking too much. 

"Yeah," he answered lamely. 

"So," he started again, "You said there was a message?"

Zandra suddenly remembered what she had planned to do that day: Find out what the message had meant. Because somehow, she had a feeling that it had to do with Neo. And for some reason, it didn't sound pleasant. 

"Right," she answered a bit loud, and was quiet again. "I need to see if I can access some information on something."

"What on?"

"History, I think."

Shade frowned in thought. _History?_ Zandra suddenly smiled, but it died before it could fully blossom. Instead, she left to find Alias.

Alias was definitely glad to have something to do. Her hope of ever getting to help out with the rebellion again had been waning, but Zandra had fixed that for the moment. Quickly she got to work searching for Zandra's query. It might be a long search, but she didn't care. It was something that Zandra needed help on, and she was glad to be the one to do it. 

She rolled into the mess room two hours later. Zandra had been hanging out in there for the past few hours, chatting with Shade until he left. Then she just sat there, letting her thoughts run wild in her brain. It took a second for her to realize that Alias was done. 

"What did you find?" she suddenly asked, shaking herself out of her daydream. Alias took a deep breath before answering. 

"There's a lot in there," she warned. Zandra nodded a few times.

"Okay," she breathed, sorting all the information out. It was going to be a lot.

"First off: Gaul of the New World Order," she said, "Gaul is French, denoting royalty. The New World Order was during Egypt's reign. There was a big change in world government, and that's when the 'New World Order' came around. With me?"

Zandra nodded. Things were starting to come together.

"Okay next is Spawn of Quinotaur." She paused before continuing. "I saw something saying a Quinotaur is a sea monster of which a French King Merovee was born. It's just a myth, but that's what it says.

"Self-enslaved apostate – I can't find anything specific on that. All I know is an apostate is a renegade. As for a grail," she sighed again, and threw up her hands.

"I don't know _what _Grail they're talking about. The only thing I could find was where it should be – there's some old story of the Holy Grail being located at some huge place in France. It makes sense, but only because of the next clue, "The Terrible Place, house of god, gateway to heaven…" she trailed off, Zandra nodding the whole time. Both had memorized the riddle by now.

"Which was said to be at a place called 'Rennes-le Chateau', up in the mountains. I don't know why you'd go _there_, though." Zandra gave her a look of confusion.

"I don't know if I'm going anywhere," she told Alias, who suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, the last part," she said, closing her eyes in thought. "I couldn't find anything about Protector of Men, but I did find what it means."

Zandra gave her another look. 

"That's your name," she answered with a look of finality and interest. Zandra rolled her eyes, but Alias did nothing. It was only a little offensive to see her act like that after all she had done to help, but Alias was used to being treated less than human lately.

"So who is the Gaul?" she asked. There was still a piece of the puzzle missing.

"Well, the first one would be Merovee, I guess," she started, "But after that there's a whole line of kings. Merovingians, I think they were called."

"_Merovingians_?"

"Yeah, I think. I might be pronouncing it wrong though."

"You're _not_." And then Zandra promptly got up and left Alias alone in the room. She sighed heavily, and then went back to her book. Zandra didn't realize her selfishness, but wouldn't have stopped if she did. She had to find Cover. _Right then._

"Hey Zandra," Trim called from behind her. She reluctantly turned around, but managed to put on a smile.

"I just wanted to thank you again for helping me back there," he told her, gratitude in his eyes. "I heard you were figuring out that riddle?"

She closed her eyes in irritation. "Yes, I'm trying to find Cover now," she told him.

"What did it say?"

"Neo's at the Merovingian's," she answered quickly. Trim gave her a strange look.

"I thought you said-"

"There's Cover," she said, and left him mid-sentence. She ran down the hallway, chasing a Cover who was going to go get something to eat from the mess room. Normally she wouldn't bother him, but now it was vital. Cover would want to know where the informant was. Trim sighed and went back to maintenance. It was going to be another long day.


	11. Preparation

Protector of Men Ch 48

"Are you sure that was what it meant?" Cover asked her. He was a little skeptical of her findings, but only because of what she had said only a few hours ago. Zandra had told him earlier that the Oracle mentioned to ignore a Merovingian, because he would be dangerous. And now, now she was telling him that Neo was being held by him. It seemed inevitable that she would next be ordering them to take him out.

"_Yes_, yes I'm sure," she answered with a vigorous nod. Cover eyed her thoroughly.

"I was suspicious about it before," she continued, "Now I'm _sure_ of it."

Cover sighed and nodded. It seemed like more and more he was relegating his position to her – allowing her to do just about whatever she wanted. But she _was_ the One, so it was truly up to her how the war would be fought. He was just there to lead. To _advise_.

"I think we still need to research some," he said, and by her immediate reaction, could tell she was not happy.

"Just a _little_," he told her, "Just go into the matrix and see what you can find."

Zandra sighed, but agreed. He _was_ her captain, after all. 

The rest of her day was spent wandering about the ship. She talked a little, but read a lot. She decided to catch up on some… _history_. There wasn't any shame in looking a little further into the information she had gotten - perhaps there was something more. Soon enough it was night, and time to rest. Zandra went gladly, but didn't want tomorrow to come. Going into the matrix for information, for direction… it seemed a bit useless to her. But if it was what Cover wanted her to do, then she'd do it. He wouldn't _force_ her do anything that wasn't useful.

_"Dr. Roberts?" she asked waveringly into the telephone. _

"This is he," he answered in a clear tenor. Zandra was more than a little intimidated by the prospect of speaking to the famous doctor. What was she but a small college student, and he a world-renowned physicist? She took a moment to muster up her courage before tackling the subject at hand.

"Hi," she started, more confident, "I'm Alexandra Richards, from Princeton College?"

"Ah yes," he answered slowly, "The physics project girl."

Zandra laughed nervously. "Yes, I guess that's me," she answered.

"How is it coming along?"

"Very well, thank you. It's simply fascinating, Dr. Roberts, your work is really magnificent."

"Oh no," he chuckled self-consciously, "I just observe. But I hear you expanded on my theory of the universal hologram?"

"Actually yes," she answered, more timid. "My professor, Dr. Judd suggested that I speak with you, kind of mull over hypotheses…"

"What did you find? I'll be interested to hear about it."

Zandra took a second to answer. She was a little worried that he'd just laugh at her… 

"Well, I was looking at the entropy values in quasars, like you suggested, and I found something a little off. At first I thought it was a problem with my calculations, but Dr. Judd agrees with me that it isn't."

"Well, what was it?"

Zandra was thoroughly afraid now. The moment of truth.

"Well, one of the constants of nature, it was a little off… like I said I thought it was wrong, but we could observe its affects as well, so we deducted it wasn't a mathematical error."

"Zandra,"

"Well, and I related it back to your idea of the universe as mutable, you might say, as…"

"Just information."

"Right." Zandra took a second before continuing again. Her breathing seemed off, probably because of her raging nerves.

"But anyways, the constant, it kept changing every now and then. When it did, the 'information', I guess, replayed itself for a second. It was just amazing to watch, Dr. Roberts, it actually repeated itself! Just for a moment."

"Zandra,"

"-But it happened quite often for a while." Zandra heard a noise in the background, thought that something was wrong with her phone. Lately it had been making a lot of clicking noises every time she called someone. She was about to get it fixed, but had forgotten about it before calling Dr. Roberts. __

"What constant did you say it was, again?"

Zandra awoke to a slight nudging on her shoulder. She opened a tentative eye and saw Shade's shirt in front of her face. She made a noise, and he moved back into her field of view. 

"Zandra," he whispered, "It's time to get up."

Zandra groaned and turned over. It was already morning?

"Oh, come _on_," he joked, pulling her back to the other side. She let herself be pulled, to go along with the joke. Shade stopped, and stooped to the ground.

"You _have_ to wake up," he told her, a smile creeping across his bright face, "We're going _in_ today."

Zandra groaned again, but this time pulled herself up in bed. 

"That's the ticket," he told her softly.

"So _we_'re going in?" she asked, pointing at herself and him. He nodded.

"Just us two," he answered, "Cover's gonna be our backup."

Zandra nodded. 

"Do you know where we're _going_?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes again. Shade laughed, recognizing her habit. Once she became confused at his jovial mood, he quit laughing.

"There are some ships convening at broadcast depth today, we might drop in there."

Zandra nodded again.

"But also, we can try this Renee-Chatoh thing if we can," he continued. "We'd just have to jack in twice for that."

Again Zandra nodded in comprehension. 

"Up then," he suddenly told her, standing with energy. Zandra gave him a weary look, and slowly pulled herself to her feet.

"Can we eat before we go?"

Shade laughed again. "But of course."

They ate together, chatting happily while they did. It was a welcomed change for Zandra; it reminded her of many weeks ago, a time when she and Shade had been more than just shipmates, but bunkmates, as well. Her heart fell immediately. Stephen was the reason why happiness had become so suddenly hard to find_. And here I am,_ she thought regretfully, _just pretending nothing's happened…_ Shade stopped eating for a moment, concerned. Suddenly Zandra had become very quiet and didn't touch her food. In a few seconds she looked at him and blushed. Then they both began to eat again, but this time much quieter. 

"Done?" he asked after a few more minutes. Zandra nodded, and Shade discarded both of their plates. Together they walked to the main deck to jack in.

"Hey," Kesia greeted them, with her usual smile. "Ready to go?"

They both nodded in unison. Kesia smiled again. 

"They've all jacked in for the meeting," she told them as they reclined into their chairs, "But you should get there when it starts."

"How many people are meeting there?"

Kesia's eyes searched the room, as if looking for the answer.

"Eleven, I think," came her tentative answer. Zandra nodded in comprehension again, her neck beginning to ache. _Long day ahead…_

"Alright then," came Shade's voice, strapping his legs into his chair, "Let's get moving." Kesia quickly called out to Cover, who was nearby. He had his arms crossed as he approached the two, watching him intently.

"Be careful, you two," he told them. He then looked solely at Zandra, as if no one else could hear. 

"Zandra, don't forget what you are. What you are capable of. You need to find _information_."

He raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking if she understood. Her blank expression told him that she had at least listened, and that was all he needed. He then stepped forward and strapped in Shade's arms, then moved to Zandra. Soon they were ready to go. All they waited for was the needle; their connection to the other world. 

Zandra didn't wince as it went in. She didn't even care anymore. There were much more pressing things to worry about when uploading. All she saw was Kesia waving goodbye from her chair, and then everything went black again. 

"Ready to head out?" Shade asked her. He stood only inches away from her, a look of excitement on his face.

"I think so," she answered, looking herself over. She smiled, and Shade gave her a look of curiosity.

"Holster," she answered, putting her ammunition in its rightful place. Suddenly the day was looking better already. 


	12. Socializing

Protector of Men Ch 49

"Lets go then," Shade told her softly. He lingered a moment, but then looked away and moved for the door.

"Where's the meeting?" she asked him. 

"Out the door and in the next building," he answered. He opened the door for her and gestured for her to go first. She did so reluctantly.

"So what are they meeting for?" she pondered as they walked to the run-down hotel that the meeting would be located in. They were in a morally deserted part of the city: dark, damp, and dirty. There wouldn't be many people around, and those who happened to be wouldn't be alarmed by their presence. 

"I think they're devising a strategy for recruits," he answered frankly. He didn't look at her while he answered, but rather watched their surroundings in case of danger. The hotel was looming in the distance.

"A strategy?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I don't know much, but I think they're trying to figure out a way to inform recruits without getting them tagged by the new agents."

"Hm," Zandra answered, and was then silent. They entered the old hotel without exchanging further words; Zandra noted the hotel's name, faded with time: "CrossRoads Motel". She wondered if it meant anything, but it was a transient thought. There were many people inside the building, and all eyes were on them. One man stood up and moved forward to greet the two newcomers.

"Zandra, Shade," he acknowledged, shaking each of their hands in turn. "I'm Clarity, captain of the Infantile. My crew is with me, as is Dying Sun's. Their captain is Helaku." A man stood up and waved at the two, then sat down again. Clarity continued.

"We're honored you could visit us," he told them, "My operator mentioned that you are in search of something?" He looked at Zandra for an answer.

"Well," she started, unsure of herself, "We were planning on researching on a Merovingian." 

He pondered a moment before going back to his seat. "I don't think any of us have heard of a Merovingian," he responded slowly, apologizing. 

"What exactly is it you're wanting?" he asked. Zandra waited a second before choosing her answer, remembering a time so long ago when she had been told not to reveal the truth…

"We heard that a man named Merovingian would have information about an informant we've been looking for," she answered, keeping it as mysterious as possible. Clarity nodded a few times, masking his incomprehension. It was quiet after that.

Shade suddenly spoke up, not wanting the situation to leave them totally silent.

"I hear you're trying to find a new way to recruit?" he asked, moving forward into the circle of people. A few nods were elicited.

"Agents have been tracking everyone that's of interest," Helaku said to them. "We can't even get in contact unless we have a death wish."

"Any ideas?" came Clarity's voice. Everyone looked at Zandra again.

"How many go in at a time?" asked Shade, ignoring their imploring glances.

"Three or four," answered Helaku.

"That's probably your problem there," he answered, "Maybe only one should go in, so it doesn't attract agents as easily." They still looked at Zandra for confirmation.

"Zandra?" Helaku asked. It took her a second to realize what they were asking.

"Oh," she mumbled, looking about the room nervously, "Yeah, I agree with Shade."

They all looked at each other and nodded. 

"You think that maybe if we go in alone we can get better results?"

Shade nodded. "I think the agents are tripped by the amount of jack-ins." His comment created a flurry of conversations between the two crews, all of which didn't include Zandra or Shade. They stood silent as the crews went through plans for recruitment.

Zandra began to daydream as they argued amongst themselves.

_"Numerous targets?" One asked. Another man nodded quickly and motioned for the group to follow. _

"What's the primary?" __

"The girl," he answered factually, "It should be obvious when we see her. Highly dangerous terrorist." He suddenly raised his voice so that he could be heard by everyone. "Keep all eyes out, ladies!" he shouted, "Shoot on sight, don't hesitate!"

"Zandra?"

It was Shade, and his face was full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking her shoulder in his hand. She nodded slowly, unsure. It was another dream, this time more amorphous than the last. But it sounded more ominous than the others, and it worried her. Zandra was beginning to think that she was either a good candidate for the Psychic Friends, or going insane. Whatever it was, it gave her a bad feeling.

"Yeah," she responded quickly, shaking her head a few times, "Fine. Fine."

Both crews suddenly stopped talking, and Clarity stood up again.

"Certainly Zandra, you know how to get around these agents," he implored, shoulders high in incomprehension, "There must be a way we can evade them."

Zandra was suddenly very uncomfortable. They're asking me for information? _Hell_, she thought, _I don't even know what I'm doing_… Everyone looked at her expectantly.

"I just try and run," she offered, ending it like a question. They were still watching her, wanting more… _damnit_…

"The agents," she started, "The agents are fast, but clumsy. I think if we can run, then we can escape."

They all nodded at each other, and went back to talking amongst themselves. Zandra sighed in relief, gave Shade a knowing glance; he was understanding. Zandra zoned out again, hoping that the crews wouldn't look to her again for any more information; she didn't have much to give.

_"Are we ready to go in?"_

"Ready, sir."

"Ready, sir!"

"Sir, we're ready."

"Then keep your bootstraps on, and don't pansy out on me. These people are trained, and they know what they're doing! Don't maim, aim to kill! Let's go in." 

Zandra snapped awake and almost swooned. Shade quickly grabbed her elbows and held her up, while the two crews simply watched in dismay.

"Zandra," Shade whispered as she slowly came back, "What's going on?"

"I think the meeting needs to end," she told him quietly. Only when she looked around did she notice that everyone was watching her again.

"Is there something wrong?" Clarity asked quickly, almost jumping from his seat. He motioned for his crew to get up as well, and they obeyed.

"Is someone coming?" asked Helaku, who quickly followed suit in getting ready to leave. Shade nicely spoke up for Zandra.

"I think the meeting's over," he said politely, as calmly as he could. "Maybe we can get together another time, but for now I'd head out."

They took their cues and left through the roof as quickly as they could, leaving Shade and Zandra alone in the building. They stood next to each other on the top floor after everyone else had left. Zandra was inspecting her ammunition thoroughly – her two P228's were polished clean, and fit nicely into her new harness holster. She was already attached to it.

"What was that?" Shade asked her imploringly. 

"A daydream," she told him, "Just a really creepy daydream."

"What was it about?"

They both registered the noise downstairs at the same time. It was the sound of something breaking, something falling, and heavy footsteps approaching the stairs below them. They were three floors up, but it wouldn't be much in a few seconds.

"Agents," Shade whispered under his breath, making for the roof-hole above them. Zandra stopped him.

"No, they're _not_."

And she began to walk down the stairs, her guns drawn.


	13. Unformidable Foes

Protector of Men Ch 50

Shade could only watch in horror as Zandra descended the stairs to what was probably her end. Eventually he mustered the courage to follow her down, but she was already so far down the stairs that he couldn't see her anymore. The sounds below were getting louder with each passing second.

"Zandra," he whispered, pulling out his Walther P99. 

"Ssh," she soothed, revealing herself to be closer to him that he originally thought, "It's SWAT. Not agents. It'll give the crew's time to get out." And she motioned for him to join her behind the wall facing the first floor. They could hear the team's hurried suggestions.

"Dustin, move out," they heard a voice say, "Control says this Zandra girl is deadly. Let's not take any chances."

They heard someone move closer to their hiding spot, and Zandra watched the stairs intently. No one found them, nor did anyone care to check the stairwell. 

"I can handle this," she told him quietly, getting ready to ambush. Shade was offended.

"I can help," he insisted, taking her arm.

"Okay."

Zandra stepped forward, her gun at eye level. No one had seen them yet, and all Shade and Zandra could see was the wall ahead of them. Only inches away from their protective wall stood a group of five SWAT members, searching the first floor for them. Zandra took another step forward and took a quick peek around the wall. There stood a man, only inches from her, facing away. _This is too easy_. Shade slowly advanced behind her as she went in for her move.

She kicked him square in the back before he knew what hit him and took his now free M-16 before he hit the ground. He collapsed onto the floor unconscious, just as she had planned. She didn't want to cause any more unnecessary deaths.

But her movement had caused some noise – enough as to alert the rest of the team. They all turned simultaneously, some with varying degrees of fear on their faces. Zandra pitied them for a moment, but not long. She'd have to move quickly – Shade wouldn't be able to ignore bullets, and soon enough they'd use lethal force on the both of them. _One down, four to go_, she thought. _But where are the agents?_

She jumped onto the low shelf to her right to get more leverage against her new opponents. Two men were coming for her, and one was going for Shade. Luckily, he had good aim with his gun. In a few seconds one more SWAT was down. Zandra looked to Shade; he gave her a tiny smirk as his gun smoked. There was only a moment before they'd have to go into combat again. A man was coming for Zandra, and coming quickly. But she'd get to him first.

She leapt off of the shelf and knocked into him mid-air, sending him unconscious with a near-lethal kick to the neck. His head jerked to the side and he slumped to the ground, revealing another man behind him. He looked afraid, and Zandra felt the strange feeling of guilt wash over her again. But he was resolute, and instead began to open fire against her with his M-16. 

She decided to dodge the bullets this time, knowing that if she ignored them completely, he might have lost it and alerted the agents to their presence. It was folly to believe it would help, but she felt bad. It might have been useless, but it made her feel a little better about what she'd soon have to do to him. 

As she dodged the automatic rifle fire, she looked over to Shade. He was fighting with another man, who seemed to be a bit pre-occupied with Zandra's movements. As long as Shade could terminate him, it didn't matter. Shade chopped him in the side of the neck and Zandra watched in slow motion as the man jerked upright, and then fell to the ground, dead. _Such a shame._

But Zandra was still evading her own death, and couldn't dodge bullets forever. She could tell that Shade was looking on, and didn't want to leave him waiting, vulnerable… She re-aimed her M-16 and fired twice on the SWAT, once in the shoulder, and once in the leg. He wouldn't die, but he'd be incapacitated from killing them. Everything sped back up as she stopped, looked over to Shade. He nodded once, a smile creeping over his face. It vanished in a moment.

"Base, this is Black Lightning, we have four… agents down…" the man managed, pressing a button on his belt. Zandra watched in horror as he spoke into the receiver in painful panting gasps. It reminded her of Stephen for a moment, but she quickly threw away the idea. _Stephen wouldn't hurt us_, she reminded herself angrily. 

"You poor, uninformed soul," she told him, walking up to his trembling body. He watched Zandra with fearful eyes. A moment later he was dead. She silently mourned the loss of the innocent man, but not for long. They were in a dangerous situation now. Shade looked to her, asking without words for direction. She turned to him, her eyes darting to the door, the window, the stairs, and finally to Shade.

"We have to get out," she told him.

"No need to tell _me_," he said with a nervous laugh, "The roof?"

She nodded quickly, and then handed him the M-16. "I have my gun," she explained.

They then headed back up the stairs to the roof. They weren't attacked when leaving the hotel, and found no one on the roof to greet them. They were pleased, but knew their urgency.

"_Wait_," Zandra told Shade as they walked over to the edge of the building, "They might have our phone guarded."

Shade nodded quickly and pulled out his phone before Zandra could. Kesia was on the line in a matter of seconds.

"You're phone's being watched," she told him. 

"Where do we go?"

"Straight ahead is where the other crews got out. It's a payphone a few hundred meters ahead, no one on radar."

Shade hung up the phone.

"Straight ahead, on the ground."

She nodded and put her gun into her holster. "Let's jump then." Shade then watched her run to the edge of the building and jump.

It was more of a leap, actually. A flying leap. He hadn't seen it before, but wasn't surprised. Zandra was amazing. _Follow suit,_ he thought. _What the hell…_

Zandra let the wind push against her as she glided downwards. If only she had all the time in the world, she would just go up – and never come back down…. But time was the problem. Time was always of the essence. Soon she was close enough to the phone and landed on the ground with hardly a sound. She looked backwards at Shade.

He had jumped too, but not nearly as gracefully. He almost tumbled downwards, and landed with a thump before rolling to a nonchalant walk.

The phone began to ring as Shade walked up to her. Zandra noticed that he had discarded his gun, but she didn't care. He'd be out soon, if she got her way. Shade looked at her expectantly, gesturing for the phone.

"You first," she told him assertively. Shade looked away for a second, and then walked over to the phone without a word. He picked up the ringing phone and was gone. It was only then that Zandra noticed the hobo looking on with a mixture of pleasure and wonder on his face. He stood next to the entrance to the subway system, and Zandra noticed multiple watches on his wrist.

She pulled out her gun, expecting him to turn into an agent – but as she did, he began to laugh.

"No need, no need," he told her, waving his hands in a gesture of pacifism, "No jackets _here_ to catch you." He had a strange look in his eye; one that insinuated that he was more than just a harmless onlooker.

Zandra eyed him suspiciously. The phone began to ring again, but she paused before answering it. The man continued to laugh, and got up.

"Why look everywhere for direction," he mused, getting very close to her, "When it's right in front of your face? Right in front…." He continued, waving a hand in front of her nose.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, _nothing _at all," he told her, beginning to saunter away, "But this story _sure_ has gotten _interesting_…"

"_What_ story?"

"Much better than the last _one_, I tell you, much better…"

And he danced down into the subway system and into the darkness. Zandra watched him stumble lazily into the blackness, wondering what in the hell he had been talking about. It was eerie, and left her a little frightened. It seemed like he knew who she was, but would that make him a program? _An agent in disguise_? Then why would he have walked away from her…? _Right in front of my face?_

The phone was still ringing, but Zandra didn't pick it up immediately. Something the man had said was still sticking in her mind. What did he mean, 'one'? Zandra definitely thought that the man knew something… but how much? _Right in front of my face…_

She looked in front of her at the grafittied telephone booth. Phone numbers, random words, people's names… _Gaul._

And there it listed an address.


	14. I Insist

Protector of Men Ch 51

"A hobo told you this address?"

"No," she sighed angrily, "I found it."

"A hobo told you where to look?"

"Look! He might not have been a hobo, okay?"

"Wait, so he was laying on the ground wearing rags and talking like he's drunk, but he's not a hobo?"

"Kemp. I know what I'm talking about, Okay? Keep your head out of this. Trust me, I wouldn't lead them galumphing off somewhere unless I knew what I was doing!"

Kemp was suddenly quiet and made a face.

"Fine then," she mumbled, getting up, "Just a little curious….don't have to be a bitch…"

Zandra gritted her teeth in frustration, but didn't respond. Instead she responded rather hastily by a rather rude hand gesture, which Kemp luckily did not see. Zandra felt embarrassed for her haste soon afterwards, and looked down in an attempt to keep her temper in check. Kemp had her own way of handling things, even if it _was_ a little _rude_…

Suddenly she was alone in the mess room again. It had been a few hours since they had originally jacked in, mostly spent wandering around the ship in search of something to do. Shade had left her to go get cleaned up, and Alias was nowhere to be found. So she was alone for now, at least. Perhaps she'd go get a shower after Shade was finished. It would only be a few more minutes until he'd be out…

As she stood to get up, Cover walked in and took a seat. He watched her expectantly; she sat back down, expecting a lecture of sorts. She was right.

"I hear from Kemp that your informant was a bit of a shady character?"

Zandra shook her head in irritation, and rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Kemp's got a _problem_."

Cover looked at her for a moment, a glance of warning that told her to watch what she said. She toned her attitude down a bit, but it was still present.

"He knew what he was talking about."

"What did he say?"

"Lemme just say he knew what he was talking about."

Cover merely looked at her. She continued.

"He said that I shouldn't be looking around everywhere for information when it was right in front of my face. He said that three or four times. Then he said the story was getting interesting, and something was much better than the other ones. And then he left."

"What makes you think that the information was correct?"

Zandra sighed.

"I just have a _feeling _about it," she told him, "There was an address, _literally_ – right in front of my face. It wasn't just coincidence."

Cover leaned back and nodded.

"I believe in you, Zandra," he told her, "I'm on your side. But you _can't_ talk to Kemp like that."

Zandra looked down in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. But Cover continued.

"She may decide she doesn't like this crew if things keep up."

"You think she'll _switch_?"

"She might. Right now she's mostly interested in operating."

"Why doesn't she want to go in?"

Cover was quiet a moment before answering, and his voice was hushed when he did.

"_Zandra_," he told her, "Not many people can safely go into the matrix anymore. Kemp isn't experienced – she wouldn't be able to handle it."

"As of this moment, only you, Shade, I, and possibly Trim can go in." Zandra took a moment to digest the information. 

"What will Alias and Kemp do?" she finally asked. 

"Alias is still our medic, and Trim will be teaching her some mechanics." He trailed off, watching the wall intently.

"Kemp?"

"I'm not sure yet. It's possible that with more training she could be let in, but it seems more like she's just happy to be in the real world."

_Happy_ didn't seem like a characteristic of Kemp. _Obnoxious was more like it_. Cover detected Zandra's attitude again.

"You _can't_ write her off, Zandra," he warned her, "She knows more than you think."

Zandra turned a little red and was quiet. 

"Back to the subject at hand," he suddenly said, in a much brighter tone, "So you think this address is where the Merovingian is."

"Yes."

"But I thought you mentioned a _Rennes-le Chateau_-"

"I know," she answered quickly, "But I doubt we'd find him there."

"Why not?"

"It's a public place," she replied a little tentatively, "I don't think it would be that obvious." Cover nodded slowly and propped his chin up on his arm.

"I _still_ think we need to make sure it isn't a trap."

Zandra didn't respond.

"Isn't there anyone that knows the informant well?"

"_Well?_"

"Or at all."

"Only one other person, and he's in Zion."

"Then we might want to pay him a visit."

"Now?"

"Soon, if you want to find Neo."

"Right."

And there the conversation ended. Zandra left soon thereafter, with only a few words goodbye to Cover. Soon after they'd begin to go back to Zion. _To gather more information_. Zandra was beginning to grow frustrated. If the Merovingian was so dangerous, wouldn't it be worse to have Neo waiting so long? Certainly the man would want him deleted… but if the Oracle was lying, did that mean he _wasn't_ dangerous? 

_Maybe gathering more information is a good idea_, she thought. Either way, things would definitely be slowing down for the next few days. Perhaps a break in Zion would be good. _But who to stay with? Last time I – _Zandra stopped walking, suddenly reminded of her past visit to Zion, when she and Stephen had stayed together. When they had talked, reminisced, _kissed…_

She began to walk slower to her bunk. _Please don't have dreams._


	15. Surprise

Protector of Men Ch 52

"Cover, they're actively searching."

"I know, Kesia," he replied curtly, "Can we set her down?"

"Of course," she replied in a quiet voice. Cover watched the screens carefully. The sentinels were slowly approaching. It was a duality – good that they were moving slowly (which meant that they had not detected Purgatory), but bad that they were approaching in the first place. Sentinels had never been seen so close to Zion before. 

"I'm going manual," Kesia told him, grabbing her controls. He nodded. 

Zandra was enjoying a cold shower in the morning. She was glad that she hadn't had any dreams. In fact, since she had gotten the information from the mystery man, she hadn't had any dreams at all. Instead, her nights were spent worrying about Neo's fate. Would she be able to get to him in time? Would he be there at all? Hopefully Emory could answer some of her questions. As the time went, she was regarding Cover's idea better and better. _Some guidance would be well appreciated_, she thought. 

She began rubbing soap into her short hair. _Almost long enough for shampoo_… but not quite. At least it was long enough to start falling to the sides, and wasn't so spiky anymore. The shower was invigorating, and allowed her to temporarily forget all of her troubles. She meditated while cleaning herself, clearing her mind of all the detritus from the weeks before. It was soothing.

"They're coming closer."

"I know. Get everyone up here."

"Should I call someone?"

"Get Shade."

Kesia got onto the P.A system. 

"Shade, get everyone up to the front," she called out, "We've got company calling."

Zandra hadn't heard the overhead because of the loud shower. So she continued to wash, oblivious to the impending danger outside. It was only when she heard an incessant pounding on the door that she hastily turned off the water. She wrapped herself up in the thin towel on the floor and opened the door, startled by the harsh knocking. Both were a little embarrassed; Shade was behind the door.

"Sorry," he bashfully apologized, looking downwards.

"What's wrong?"

"Squids," he told her, now looking in her eyes, not wanting to be distracted…

"_Squids_?"

"Oh, ah sentinels," he told her, "We're all s'posed to go to the cockpit again."

Zandra looked around expectantly. 

"But…"

"Umm," he started sheepishly, rubbing his palm against his cheek in a gesture of discomfort, "I guess just try and get dressed quickly and head out?"

"Okay," she said, "I'll hurry."

"Sorry."

Zandra laughed, but quickly hushed herself. "Don't worry about it," she whispered after him, and closed the door before quickly changing into her clothes. In less than a minute she was hurrying over to the cockpit, where everyone was waiting. Not for her, but for the sentinels.

"Do we have everything shut down?" Cover asked Kesia. She nodded once.

"Good. We don't want something like _last time_ happening again."

"Two thousand yards," Kesia warned.

"Won't they be able to scan us from there?" Trim asked. Cover put a hand up and nodded.

"Quiet now," he told them, and turned to Kesia. "When they hit one thousand, do it."

Kesia nodded silently and opened the cover for the EMP. Everyone was quiet, waiting for the moment to arrive that the sentinels would approach, that they'd use the EMP and have to run back to Zion. The moment was coming soon. 

"Fifteen hundred," she called out after a few seconds. Zandra could see something moving in the pipeways ahead of them; Something flying, curving its way slowly to where they were hiding. Everyone was rather tense as they awaited the EMP to be used. Zandra watched another sentinel appear from the darkness and join the first one. They were getting very close, their many appendages floating gracefully as if they were swimming through water. It was oddly poetic: graceful monsters.

"Twelve hundred," she said, re-adjusting her hand on the EMP button. Cover watched her hand intensely as if making sure it didn't do anything wrong in twisting the control button. Kesia didn't move as the sentinels got closer. Zandra was panicking on the inside – _they're too close_, she kept thinking, _they'll be able to get us…_

"_Now_," Cover suddenly voiced. Kesia looked startled, and then cranked the EMP with shaky hands. Again Zandra saw the wave of electricity inch towards the sentinels, and watched them convulse before falling to the ground below them. For a moment, she felt pity for them; she gasped quietly as the deadened machined fell in careless heaps – but it was only a moment. Zandra looked around, hoping that no one would have seen her momentary loss of control. They hadn't: they were too busy watching the sentinels, as she had been. Zandra felt weary.

A collective sigh was heard from Purgatory once the threat was neutralized. Slowly they went back to what they were doing, save Kesia and Trim. They were to stay in the cockpit with Cover and get the ship back to their home as quickly as possible. Sentinels were never supposed to be that close to Zion. 

Zandra was planning on going back to her room, but Shade caught her before she could. Kemp was with him, but promptly left with a loud sigh once she had seen Zandra approach. Zandra was glad not to have to deal with her. Kemp was too much to handle. _Actually_, Zandra thought angrily, _she's always too much to handle_. Shade started rumpling his hair when she walked up to him.

"Sorry again," he said, looking at the ground, "I didn't mean to barge in on you…." He trailed off, not wanting to go any further. Zandra was understanding.

"Don't _worry_," she emphasized, clapping him nicely on the shoulder, "_Someone_ had to tell me."

"Yeah," he allowed, nodding at the ground. They were both quiet for a second. 

"So," Zandra started, "Back to Zion,"

"Yeah," he replied, suddenly springing back to life, "So you're going to talk to this Emory guy about the Merovingian?"

"I guess so," she sighed.

"You don't want to go?"

"No," she answered quickly, "It's not that I don't _want_ to."

"You're reluctant to go back?"

"No, it's not _that_…" Zandra was suddenly reminded again of her last trip to Zion, and was brought back into the realm of silence. Shade kicked himself mentally, remembering that every time he had tried to connect with her, he ended up screwing up a perfectly fine conversation. _Good move_, he told himself silently.

"Well, I guess we'll be there soon," she finally said, staring off into space. 

"Yeah," he answered, "I think Alias is finally staying on her own." He added the last part without thinking about it, and only hushed his voice in the last half. He wanted to bash his head into the wall for being so thoughtless. What if Alias had been in the room?

"Oh," Zandra replied noncommittally. What was the right way to respond to a comment such as that?

"Well, I guess you can always stay with me again," he offered, hoping that his proposition would come off the right way. Zandra nodded into space again, weighing her options.

She could stay with Kesia and Kemp again, but she didn't want to. Zandra figured that staying away from Kemp would be a good idea for the time being. Too obnoxious, too loud-mouthed. 

"Yeah," she answered after a few seconds, "That'd be good."


	16. Unintentionally Unaware

Protector of Men Ch 53

She was waiting outside Emory's room. It had only been about half an hour since they had arrived at Zion, Cover told her to take her time in contacting Emory. But she knew better – the quicker she was able to get the information (or lack thereof,) then the quicker they'd be able to go back to broadcast depth. Shade had reminded her where his room was, and she had run off to go to Emory. Everyone else had basically gone their own way. Trim went off with Alias, Kemp with Kesia, and Cover on his own. Shade said he would go and get them something to eat while she was gone. 

But Emory was not answering his door. After a few minutes she gave up, hoping that maybe he was out doing an errand and not ignoring her. She sat against the banister across from his door quietly, observing the walls, the doors, each _screw_…

And then she remembered. Her mood darkened as she recalled how Stephen had done the exact same thing only weeks earlier while waiting for her to leave Emory's room. She remembered fondly how he had worried that Emory might have been a love interest, remembered how she laughed when telling him otherwise. He had been so caring, waiting for her, not knowing when she'd come out…

Emory pulled her out of her momentary depression before it could take her over completely. Zandra heard him coming and watched him approach, the preliminary look of confusion soon replaced by a look of understanding.

"Zandra," he called, "Back so early?"

"Well," she started, getting off of the ground, "I was hoping you could give me some direction."

"Not out here."

"Oh."

"Come inside," he suddenly said, watching the sides of the hallways as if someone were coming for him, "We can talk inside."

It was the same darkness that she had been in before; the same feeling and smell of the room still pervaded its walls. Emory gestured for her to sit down, and she relished the comfort of the chair. He was watching her expectantly, willing her to explain herself.

"Have you talked to Neo?" he asked her, his hands clasped in his lap. He was sitting on the edge of his chair, awaiting her response.

"Not recently."

Emory was puzzled.

"He's disappeared."

"When," he instantly asked. His face was dark, and serious.

"A few weeks ago."

"Did he leave anything?"

"One message, written on the entrance to his 'home', I guess…"

"What did it tell you?"

"Basically, it said that he was being held by a Merovingian."

"Did it say where?"

"That's where I have a problem," she sighed. "There are two answers to that."

"What two?"  
"One answer is at the Rennes-le-Chateau in France. But I don't think he'd be there because it's too obvious. The other was an address I found from a source in the matrix, for a building in a town."

Emory scratched his ear in thought. 

"He _did_ mention to me that he had a last resort in case he was caught."

"The Merovingian?"

"I'm not sure. _But_, he did say that it was a dangerous idea in itself."

"Hm." Zandra paused in thought. "That means he could have gone there intentionally."

"That would be the general idea."

Zandra sighed in frustration. Emory wasn't being overly polite, but he didn't _have _to be… just that she was looking for information, and he was treating her as if she should know it already_. What am I missing here?_

"Why would he tell me where he was going if he went there on his own accord?"

"I am not sure," he replied, staring off into the darkness of his room, "Perhaps he has changed his mind."

"Hm," was her repetitive response. 

"Did you come to Zion to talk with me?" he asked, fiddling with a loose string on his shirt.

"Yes," she replied factually, "We came to ask you for direction. After we're done, we go back in."

Emory nodded slowly.

"Who was your contact for the address?"

"Well," she started, a bit worried that he would laugh at her when she revealed the source, "It was kind of a coincidence…."

Emory watched her, interested.

"We were jacking out, and a man sleeping by the phone told me that the answer was in front of me, and then after a few words left. I found the address on the phone."

Emory was quiet, a quiet that left Zandra in the dark, hoping that he wouldn't regard her as naïve, looking too far into something that was _trivial…_

"I know it was just a strange coincidence, but-"

"I wouldn't dismiss things like that, Zandra," he suddenly replied, his eyes closed. 

"Even the most obscure of actors will play his part. Each is vital to the final production."

Zandra nodded slowly, a little unsettled by his choice of words. Emory was getting more and more strange every time she met him.

"So you think I should try the address first."

"If you think it will work."

"I'm just not sure."

"Then try it," he told her, shrugging his shoulders, "You have nothing to lose by trying."

Zandra nodded again. Soon enough Emory had wrapped up their conversation and was shoving her out into Zion again, closing his door quickly behind her with a clunk and the faint noise of many locks being put into place. Zandra sighed wearily. Time to go back to Shade's room and try to get some sleep, if that was possible. The enigma was eating at her incessantly now that she was in Zion, so far away from the place where she could actually help. Zandra looked around once before heading to the elevator on her way to Shade's. There wasn't anyone in sight.

She walked to the elevator but found it on another floor. Patiently she waited for it to return to her level, observing the surroundings of Zion. Soon enough she heard a beep, and the elevator doors opened. There was a woman in the elevator, but Zandra didn't say anything and went in. She silently pressed the button for Shade's floor and settled in for a long ride. She tried to ignore the woman's impolite stares.

"I'm sorry," the woman finally said, "Are you Zandra?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly.

"_The_ Zandra?"

"I didn't know there was a 'the' in it."

The woman laughed a little, but stopped quickly.

"Do you have a few minutes?" she asked curiously. 

"Eehh," she answered slowly, "_Sorry_, I really don't."

"_Oh_," she replied curtly, "Important _business_, I assume."

"_Sleep_, actually." The conversation was sounding worse with each second. Zandra was suddenly reminded of the bartender she had met so long ago – _at least he hadn't recognized me for who I really was…_But there was something more, something eluding her…

"Well, I guess every _hero_ needs their beauty rest," she retorted with a smirk. Zandra was about to say something smart, but the elevator stopped prematurely. 

"_Boys_, glad you could join," she told the two large men that stepped into the elevator. Zandra suddenly felt very threatened, and shrank back into the corner of the elevator. The woman gave her an evil smile.

"This is the famous _Zandra_," she told them. They both turned around and looked Zandra over critically, enjoying the look on her face. 

"I was just going to invite her to our upload."

The two men laughed and continued looking Zandra over. She wanted to get out, but it was impossible. _Does everyone hate me here?_

"I'm sure you won't hesitate to demonstrate your clearly _superior_ talents for us, would you?"

Zandra was quiet. 

"Not so smart now, _are we_?" she asked, cocking her head to one side. _Please let Shade come find me…_

"What are you doing?" Zandra finally asked. Who was this woman? Somehow she seemed oddly familiar.

"Just making sure you are what you _say_ you are."

Zandra made a face and looked to the side. Things weren't looking good. The elevator suddenly stopped again, and Zandra found herself being manhandled out the door, an ape on each side of her. The woman laughed once, shook her head, and led them down a darkened hallway into a large room. There were upload chairs everywhere, and operators were at chairs.

"We're here," she said in a mockingly cheerful voice, "Ready for some _fun_?"


	17. Know Thyself

Protector of Men Ch 54

"What are you _doing_?" she shouted as the two men shoved her into a chair and began to strap her in, "What are you trying to prove?"

"Just that propaganda _doesn't work_," the woman sneered, strapping herself into another chair. One of the men moved away from Zandra's chair and went to the computer. The other man continued to strap her in, and lingered at her face before tightening her arms with a jerk. 

"Have fun, _hot stuff_," he whispered before leaving. Zandra spat at the ground in disgust, but the man just laughed, soon joined by the other man and the woman. 

"_Help_, he-"

It was a darkened alleyway. One lonely street lamp brightened the dark street which was surrounded by two looming brick buildings. Zandra wasn't alone, either. The woman was standing twenty feet from her, just watching.

"Why the hell are you _doing_ this?"

"You haven't read the news, _have you_," she said, approaching Zandra. Zandra stood her ground firmly, but was quaking on the inside.

"You don't even know what they're _saying_ about you," she scoffed. Zandra was silent.

"You're being lauded as a _saviour_."

"I'm _not_."

"No _shit_ you aren't. I'm going to show them, too."

"By _fighting_?"

"You don't think it will solve things? A record of you failing at my command. _Pleading _for mercy – they'll _love_ it. I'll show _them_ to aggrandize some kid with a big head. Leave the _real _life-saving for everyone else. We don't need dramatists like you."

"I'm not a dramatist," she spat.

"I'm _sure_ you're not."

"Oh fuck _off_!" she shouted at the sky, "I have better things to do than mess around here!"

The girl sneered and was quiet.

"You're not enjoying our _talk_?" she asked, walking forward, "_Your_ loss. You'll just end up losing faster."

"Oh just _try_ it," Zandra retorted, gaining her confidence again, "You don't know _what_ the hell you're doing."

The woman laughed once, then ran towards Zandra. Everything began to move slower; Zandra watched the woman come slowly, her eyes full of anger and frustration. Unfortunately, the alley was fairly bare, save for the one lamppost. _Perhaps evasion would be the best idea for now_, Zandra figured. The woman was still coming, but Zandra had ample time to get up. She jumped to the wall to her right and rebounded upwards, sailing easily up to the top of the lamppost. There she stood as the world sped back up, and there she watched the woman eye her suspiciously from the ground.

"_Coward_."

"I'm no coward," Zandra replied calmly, "I just don't need to fight you."

"I've heard otherwise," the woman hinted, a smile forming on her lips. "I think you let other people die because you're too _afraid_ to fight the agents on your own."

Zandra became very hot; she suddenly jumped off of the lamppost and onto the ground, a slight ripple forming where she had landed. Zandra didn't notice the look of surprise on the woman's face.

"I didn't let _anyone_ die," she seethed, "People die because they don't realize it's _not_ _real_."

"Oh, is _that_ it," the woman said, "_Tevy_ didn't know? Or did you _let_ the agents shoot him?"

Zandra's rage boiled over and she kicked the woman as hard as she could. The lady flew backwards immediately, and skidded a few yards before coming to a complete stop against a building. There she remained on the ground, until Zandra approached. She spat blood on Zandra's shoes, but Zandra didn't care.

"Stephen died because…" _don't show weakness now_! "Because the agents _wanted_ him to die. _Stephen_ wasn't _ready_ for it."

The woman was quiet, but pulled herself up into a sitting position. Zandra was beginning to calm down.

"I'm not a savior, but I'm not a _killer_ either, okay? Get me out of here."

"You may be able to jump and kick, but you're not _perfect_," the woman managed, pulling out a gun from her back. Zandra was nonplussed, and gave the woman the most unaffected look she could muster. As the woman started shooting, Zandra merely stood there and let the bullets clink off of her jacket and onto the paved ground. Once the woman was out of bullets, Zandra picked up one from the ground and inspected it.

"You were going to _kill_ me," she said slowly, still looking at the bullet closely. The woman was quiet, but Zandra could tell that she was afraid.

"_Why_?"

She was still quiet, but was attempting to rise up from the ground. She was having a hard time, but Zandra didn't help.

"Get me _out_ of here," she repeated, "I've proven you wrong. _I want out_."

"What in the _world_ is going on here?" Kesia asked, enraged. She kept staring at Zandra's body in the chair, Kemp standing quietly behind her. They had come to train, but had aborted their plan upon seeing Zandra in the group's company.

"Just a little meeting," the man answered colly, turning back to the computer screens. Kesia quickly understood that she wouldn't be able to do anything without the help of someone with more leverage. _Cover. _

"Kemp, go get Shade as quickly as you can. He's in room 864 on floor 35. Go now," she urged, shooing Kemp out into the main area. Kemp nodded once and scampered off. Kesia pretended to not care, and sauntered off before running to find Cover. 

"You're not getting out _yet_," a voice said from behind her, "We still have to prove our point." Zandra turned around instantly, and found herself face-to-face with one of the men. 

"Why?" she asked, keeping her face close to his. 

"_Why?_" he repeated, stepping even closer to her, "What is it always about? _Think hard_."

Zandra stepped back once and made a face. "Don't play games with me," she told him harshly. The man laughed into the night air, a cold and heartless laugh that left Zandra almost in fear.

"_Money_!" he shouted at her, "It's always about money, fame, stardom."

Zandra could only stare.

"You stupid girl," he spat, "You know how much we'll get paid for this? _Thousands_. We'll be the _best_ reporters in Zion."

It was Zandra's turn to laugh, as equally and unmercifully as he had before. Unfortunately, he was unruffled. The time to act would be then, if she would fight at all. As the man continued to stare blankly into her face, Zandra leapt over his tall body and behind him. 

"Kesia!" called Kemp from behind a wall, "Is Cover there?"

Kesia looked around before finding Kemp. Shade was standing next to her, looking very worried and fidgety. Things were a mess.

"He's here," she replied, turning to Cover behind her. He looked angry, and was searching the room for the culprits. 

"Where are they?" he demanded, imploring Kesia fiercely. She had to stay strong just to keep from fumbling under his power. 

"Over there," she pointed, gesturing towards the group of men now gathered around Zandra and the mysterious lady. Cover immediately set out for them, a look of fury clouding his regularly passive face. The rest of Purgatory watched in fear to see what would transpire next.


	18. A Valiant Effort

Protector Ch 55

Cover stormed up to the man operating the upload, his eyes on fire. Kesia could tell that already the man was afraid and probably now regretting his group's hasty decision. He smiled a fretful apology as he pushed himself away from the console.

"Do you _really_ want to be the first to be thrown in prison?" Cover demanded, leaning over the seated man as threateningly as he could. The man was silent, and allowed Kesia to politely push her way to the console and take control. Cover rolled the occupied chair closer to him to allow her more room. Shade and Kemp stood by Zandra.

"I'm _sure_ you'll make history _there_," he continued, "But unless you have a _death _wish, I think it'd be a good idea to stop this little game."

"Shutting down?" Kesia asked Cover, craning her neck around the quailing man so that she could determine his response. He nodded once forcefully, then turned his attention back to the man.

"What are you trying to prove _this time_?" he asked. He didn't have to repeat himself.

"Some people," the man started, "_Some people_ weren't believing this new '_one_' thing." Purgatory felt a ripple of animosity wash through each of them in succession, yet they held their tongues.

"So you thought you'd prove us _liars_ and get a nice sum for it in the process?"

"There- there was a viable market," he stumbled, "We-"

"They're coming out," Kesia announced. Cover suddenly turned his attention away from the man.

"Shade, take Zandra," he commanded, then turning to Kemp. "Please get Trim," he asked in a masked voice, "And see if you two can start maintenance on the ship for departure."

Zandra suddenly gasped awake and fumbled behind her for the needle in a blind frenzy. Shade, a little startled, quickly pulled it out for her and bent to lift her up. Angrily she jerked his hand away and pulled herself up out of her chair and to the woman's, who was still attached through the needle to her own seat. The man was getting up slowly, having been freed by Kemp. Kemp was silent and watched as the man silently slunk away and into the darkness around the many training areas. Zandra stood next to the woman, and kneeled so that her face was next to hers. Anger still pulsed through her veins, causing her to be reckless and hateful.

"_Next_ time you test a theory," she whispered sweetly, "Make sure you don't _fuck _yourself _over_ in the process."

The woman twisted maniacally in her seat, attempting to get at Zandra, but it was no use. Triumphantly Zandra strode back over to Shade, who accompanied her away and back to their room. Everyone was a little shocked by her performance. Kesia quickly undid the woman's needle and recoiled as she threw herself out of her chair. Cover stood in front of her, his arms crossed.

"What do you want, _Cover_," she asked, rubbing the back of her head. She was still in pain – Zandra had significantly injured her in the upload, enough to override the pain barrier.

"What the _hell_ do you think you were doing?" he asked, shaking his head. "Disproving our point for the paper?"

"_Look_," she said, licking blood from her teeth, "There was a large group of people who wanted us to do this," she explained. "I _didn't_ do it to piss you off."

"Well you _did_," he replied coldly, "You betrayed us… She _trusted_ you," he spat. The woman looked away.

"After _all_ she's been through with your crew," he whispered, turning his head away from the abomination. 

"You don't know _half_ of it," the woman retorted. Cover's eyes darted back to hers, alighted on fire once again.

"Right. _I_ don't know," he allowed, turning around. "Kesia, _come_."

And Kesia obeyed, following Cover out of the training area like a dog his angry owner. Cover did not say a word as he walked off, and left Echo sitting alone. Colombus would hear about _this_.

Shade was trying to ignore Zandra's increasingly loud sniffles, but it was hard to. He wanted to comfort her, longed to, but knew that if he tried, he'd only be pushed further away. So instead they continued walking to his room in silence, the quietness intermittently interrupted by a sniffle. Soon enough they had arrived at his room and he unlocked the door quickly, ushering her in before he got in himself. 

_What do I do?_ He thought after locking the door, _should I offer her something?_ She had been so strong, so _defiant_ earlier.. was everything just a feint, a mask to hide her insecurities? Shade was perplexed.

"Ah," he started, "Juice?"

Zandra looked up at him, exposing her tear streamed face, her puffy eyes and red nose. Shade felt an intense pang of guilt, for not being there for her… for not _helping_ more…

And she promptly ran to him, bursting into tears. Shade accepted her wailing emotional self willingly, letting his arms cover her in an act of caring. This time she accepted, merely wailing harder into his chest. And there they remained for many minutes.

"She's from the Mayflower?" Kesia asked, trying to keep up with Cover's quick pace. Cover looked at Kesia and quickly nodded. She sighed loudly. _After all they had been through…_

"We're going to see Colombus," he told her after a few minutes, "She'll need to know about this."

Kesia nodded silently and continued her walking behind Cover. It was going to be a long end of the day; full of dark conversations, of apologetic explanations… perhaps they'd be leaving for broadcast depth sooner than expected. Kesia hoped so. Zion held too much trauma.

Zandra had slowly quieted over the past few minutes to a hiccup every few seconds, an intermittent convulsion that let Shade know she was still there. Shade stood still yet - almost afraid of the situation he was in. Finally Zandra was completely quiet, and he reluctantly pulled himself away from her to see if she was alright. Zandra looked deeply into his eyes, another tear falling down her soaked face. Shade's shirt was a mess of tears, but he didn't mind. Zandra sighed and looked down, staying silent. She still continued to hiccup, and her body convulsed every few seconds from an uncontrollable spasm that was quickly turning painful. Shade could tell that she was physically tired – her body swayed on the spot as if a wind were pushing her from side to side. 

"Let's get you in bed," he soothed, taking her shoulders in his arms and leading her to the bedroom. Zandra allowed herself to be led away and into his abode. Too much had happened that day for her to care. Echo had betrayed her, had blamed her for Stephen's death. Did they not understand what had happened to her once Stephen was killed? _Right in front of her face_. Echo had reopened a wound that was just beginning to heal, hacked away at Zandra's sanity to the point that she had broken. All her strength had momentarily vanished, exposing a side of Zandra to Shade that he never could have imagined even existed.

He lay her down in his bed as smoothly as he could, and Zandra didn't make any gesture of recognition as he moved to leave the room. He had already resigned himself to sleep on the floor outside his bedroom, seeing that he didn't own a couch. Luckily, he was tired as well, and got to sleep fairly easily. Unfortunately, he woke up only a few hours later.

_"My dear," she cooed, smoothing his straight hair back from his face, "Why do you worry so much. You have nothing to worry about here."_

He was silent, turning his head away from hers. The woman was quiet for a second, recognizing his unspoken response. Her eyes narrowed. 

"You can't not enjoy it here," she said, bringing his chin back to face her, "There is everything a person could want."

"Not everything," he replied monotone. The woman looked away and made a face.

"I do not understand," she explained, getting up, "You were so different before. Now you are silent."

He said nothing again, and the woman left after another long pause. She stopped for a moment before stepping out the door, looking into his eyes. It was that moment that he was thankful for his sunglasses. She then closed the door behind her with a quiet clink, her small dress swishing with each step she took. Zandra could only look on as the man got up from the side of his bed and went over to the curtained window.

"Why are you hiding?" she asked, but elicited no response. The man pulled back the curtain slowly, a sliver of light invading the darkened room.

"Why are you hiding?" she repeated, coming closer to him. Again, he paid no heed to her presence, and opened the curtain further. His concentration was suddenly broken by an intruder, and he turned to meet the person now in his room. 

"Just checking," the man hissed, closing the door again with a smirk. The man sighed, somewhat owing to the fact that he was not yet used to the strange man. Men. Programs. Whatever they were. Zandra was startled by the intruder's appearance, but he was gone before she could stare longer. She turned back to the man. __

"Where are we?" she asked, giving up on her previous question. But it had no effect, and he continued to look out the window. Mountains_._

Shade rushed into the bedroom, having been woken from his uncomfortable sleep by Zandra's mumbled shouts. 

"Zandra, Zandra," he whispered, taking her arms gently. It was no use. She still slept, still shouted incoherent words to an invisible person.


	19. Anxious for Normalcy

Protector of Men Ch 56

Zandra wasn't responding to Shade's words, nor his gentle prodding. She was sitting up in his bed, eyes closed, shouting at the wall and moving her legs as if walking. Shade was a little alarmed, not having known about Zandra's dreaming problems.

But as soon as the dream had started, it stopped again. Zandra quietly reclined herself back into the sheets and lay her head to the side, facing Shade. Her eyes were still closed, and Shade was even more perplexed. 

_I can't leave the room again_, he thought slowly, _she'll just have another dream…_

_Do I stay here?_

Why not?

So he quietly walked to the other side of his bed and shifted his weight little by little onto the bed, trying not to wake the now peaceful Zandra. Watching her, he pulled the sheets halfway over himself and relaxed. Zandra hadn't woken, and he easily got to sleep. There were no more dreams that night.

She woke up six hours later to the sound of banging far away. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings, and when she did, she was fearful for the lack of memory… why was Shade in bed with her? _Surely I didn't…_

The pounding only grew louder as her thoughts raced around in her brain. _First things first_, and she pulled herself out of the bed to answer the door. Shade was still asleep, his peaceful head facing her way. She tried not to wake him and rushed to the door, unlocking each bolt of the portal with quiet care. She opened the door slowly, and peeked her head out cautiously to see who it was.

"Hey," Kemp said shyly, "Cover says get ready to go."

Zandra was a little stunned, and chose her words carefully in her response.

"Okay," was all she could muster. Kemp smiled what looked like an honest smile and parted. Zandra closed the door slowly again and returned to the bedroom.

Shade was beginning to wake up: he gave Zandra a lopsided smile and closed his eyes in ebbing sleepiness. Zandra wasn't sure what to do.

"Uh, _hey_…" she started. Shade opened his eyes and watched her, expecting a conversation of some sort. None came, and he was left staring at her in wonder.

"Oh," he started, getting up suddenly, "What was that _dream_ all about last night?"

Zandra thought back to the night before. _A dream?_

_A dark room. A woman, an invisible man… two ghosts, confusion…_

"Dream," she repeated, still trying desperately to remember it. 

_"You can't not enjoy it here," a woman says to him as they sit stiffly on a resplendent bed, a dark room, "There is everything a person could want,"_

"Not everything," he replies, looking away and to the floor. The woman is rebuffed.

"I do not understand," she explains, getting up, "You were so different before."

A man walks in the room, another head peeping out from behind. "Just checking," he hisses, closing the door again with a smirk. 

"You were thrashing around and shouting last night," Shade interrupted, walking up to her. "Was it a nightmare?"

"I can't remember," she replied, staring off into space.

_"Why are you hiding?"_

He looked off to the curtains and opened them.

Mountains. 

"It seemed pretty intense," he spoke, "I tried to wake you up but I couldn't."

"Is that why-"

"Yeah," he immediately responded, perhaps a bit too quickly, "I guess I fell asleep after a while."

They both nodded absently.

"What was it all about?"

"Mountains."

"_Mountains_?"

"Yeah."

Shade made a face, but quickly hid it from Zandra's eyes. Unfortunately, she caught it.

"I don't know," she explained frankly, "These dreams have been so crazy lately…" She trailed off into silence, clearly speaking more to herself than to Shade.

"Anyways," she started instead, "Kemp said its time to leave."

It took Shade a moment to switch gears, his eyes turned wide when he finally did.

"Now?"

"I guess so," she replied, "She said Cover told us to pack up."

Shade frowned in thought. _Already?_ It seemed like they were always spending so _little_ time in Zion now… he had been there so much while a part of his _old _crew… _so long ago_. Purgatory was a very different life than his old crew. Not saying that he didn't like his new life; he actually preferred it. Now he was a part of something more, with Zandra's One-ness and all. Everything revolved around her, but he didn't mind. He held a leading role in the story, and that was enough.

Soon they had packed everything up and were leaving the room, Zandra saying a silent goodbye as Shade locked the door with finality. She was suddenly reminded of Stephen, them wishing his apartment goodbye… _the last time he had been alive_. Shade tried to ignore her all too common lapse into silence, and instead walked quietly next to her down to the ships. Everyone was generally sullen as they all piled their belongings into the ship – Zandra having only brought her small knapsack of things, was able to join Kesia in the main deck as the rest of the crew milled around.

"What's that, Trim?" Kesia suddenly asked, pointing at a yellowing piece of paper nestled between his arm and chest. He slowly handed it to Kesia, eyeing Zandra as he did, and then scuttled off into his bunk. Zandra almost laughed from the absurdity of his actions, but was more curious than amused.

"What is it?"

"A newspaper," Kesia replied, flipping through the pages. She seemed uninterested by its articles, and handed it to Zandra.

"Here," she offered. Zandra took it, and Kesia excused herself to get the ship ready to leave. Zandra took her cue and retreated to the mess room to read. She flipped through the pages carelessly, until she found something worth looking over.

"_Rebel with Talent named 'The One'_" the title read. Zandra ravenously scanned the rest of the article with a mix of interest and dread. There was no telling what it would hold – but Zandra had a feeling that like her other run-ins with Zion had been, this would be more scathing than praising. 

"Zandra, recently unplugged from the Matrix, has been lauded as a savior of Zion as of late. Many now think that because of her mental prowess indicated in the matrix, she will fulfill a prophecy outlined by a woman aptly named 'the Oracle' to destroy the Matrix and deliver freedom to all humans."

_How do they know this?_

"According to the outlined 'Prophecy', the 'One' is all-powerful in the matrix and will be able to defeat the machines and win the war single-handedly. If true, it is a bright outlook indeed. Unfortunately, the staff of the Zion Interface were unable to contact Zandra because her ship, Purgatory, was out on mission at the time of publication. Recently we learned that one of her crewmates, one of the name Alias, was paralyzed from the waist down due to a mistake which some would speculate to be none other than the result of Zandra's inabilities. For more, we asked Isa of the Calling…"

Zandra couldn't read any more, and tensed her jaws in response to her overwhelming feeling of regret. _It wasn't my fault_. Zandra left the paper on the mess table and got up to return to her bunk; her little oasis of solitude.

But Alias herself popped in before she could leave. Fortunately, it was only for a moment, for Zandra worried that any longer would have caused her to break again. She glanced worriedly at the newspaper, hoping that Alias wouldn't decide to take a look.

"Cover's lifting us off," she said, and threw her wheelchair into reverse, thrusting herself out of the doorway and back down the hallway faster than Zandra could respond with a barely audible 'ok.'

So the trek would begin. 


	20. The Beginning

Protector of Men Ch 57

Cover stared Trim in the eyes, searching for any hint of confusion. He could find none, and subsequently sighed before resuming his 'talk'.

"You have to watch the screens," he advised, pointing at the radar in the cockpit. Trim nodded.

"If there's any sign of a squid – _any at all_ – get us back in ASAP. You _don't_ want to be on your own." Trim's eyes widened and he nodded all the more vigorously.

"We should only be in for a few hours. When we hit six, Kesia will call us. Can you make sure she does that?"

"Yes," he replied, nodding his head again.

"Alias may join you, as may Kemp," he warned, "But you _have _to keep watch."

He said nothing, nodded again. Cover felt that their safety was insured from the outside; Trim knew well enough to get them out of the matrix if there was any danger in the pipes. Trim knew his way around, even if he was young.

"Are we ready?" came Zandra's voice, impatient from the long wait. She was burning, yearning to prove herself. First the bartender, then the woman – Zandra shuddered at the memory – and then the newspaper Trim had trashed earlier… it seemed like everyone thought she was a fake. Certainly if she was getting _publication_ she was doing something good… but it seemed doubtful. _Too many deaths_. Now was the time that she could save someone for once. 

"I think we are," Cover replied slowly. He watched as Zandra's visage turned brighter at the news, and was a little disheartened by it. Thiswould definitely be the most dangerous mission anyone had ever gone on. Nonetheless, they were going in, and soon. Cover steeled himself for the jack in. He was the strong one; he was the leader, their captain. Everyone must play their part.

"I'm in," he spoke minutes later. Cover took a look around him – Zandra and Shade looked imposing indeed: Zandra had her long hair tied back in a tight bun, her other features masked by a robing trenchcoat that barely scraped the floor with its thick material. High spiked heels peeked out from under the garment, as if a testament to Zandra's enduring femininity. Yet, the thing that surprised him the most was her choice of sunglasses – as she had never worn them before in the matrix. 

Shade stood stoically in his fitted leather jacket and regular gray slacks, his brown hair falling neatly into his face. Unlike Zandra, he wore no sunglasses. They looked at Cover expressionless as he looked them over, both could tell that she wanted to get moving. 

He broke the silence a moment later: "Do you know where to go?" he asked Zandra. She nodded, and began to lead the way.

She opened the door, revealing a bustling metroplex in front of them.

"The agents," Shade breathed, fearing the inevitable. Soon enough the agents would trace them, and when that happened, they definitely would not want to be in the middle of a crowd. Zandra looked back briefly, then continued on.

"It's a short ways," she assured them, "I can handle agents if I have to."

Cover was not convinced though. He remembered with regret the times that Zandra hadn't been able to handle agents. Pasiphae, Alias, Tevy… they'd all have to be on their guard, no matter what Zandra believed, or _wanted_ to believe. Cover hoped that the building truly was close. They wove their way through the crowd effortlessly; people seemed to part ways when the threesome came their way. Shade wasn't surprised; they probably were quite a spectacle. He hoped that no one would want to mess with them, and the image of agents persisted in his mind. Though he tried to push it away, his mind kept asking the question: _what if you're the next one to go? No,_ he told himself, _we're going to be safe_. Unfortunately, it was an empty promise. 

Buildings hovered all around them – but they were aiming to a particularly tall one a few blocks away. Zandra strode down the streets confidently: this was only the beginning of the battle. She wouldn't, _couldn't_ be taken down now. Shade and Cover followed behind quickly and with matching strides. None of them talked. Each of them knew the importance of this jack. If they succeeded, they would win Neo back, and gain knowledge for the resistance. Without him, they'd continue to fight blind, without direction, perhaps without even _reason_. Zandra had convinced them of his impact, and they now rallied behind her. It was going to be a hard fight, possibly a long one, and extremely dangerous. But it was a war, after all, and they remembered that – though with a little disdain. 

Across the street a good Samaritan was calling 911. 

"Nine-one-one emergency," the operator recited in a bored voice, "What is your emergency?"

"Those terrorists on TV?" the woman asked in a shaky voice, covering her cellphone with her hand as not to be seen, "I think they're _here_."

"The 'Rebellion'?" the lady asked, sounding like she didn't believe the almost hysterical woman. 

"Yes, _yes_," she assured, still staring at Zandra from across the busy street. "They're _here!"_

Zandra and her crew were oblivious to the action being taken against them. They continued to stride confidently down the sidewalk, quickly approaching the imposing building, their destination. Cover and Shade quickened their pace to walk next to Zandra as they got closer to the building, Zandra continually looking up as they kept walking forward. 

"This is it?" Cover asked as she slowed to a stop. Zandra was silent and merely nodded. The three rebels found themselves an island of stagnancy: people walked around them in a torrent of humanity, going with the flow of life that commanded their existence. But despite the rushing sea of coppertops, the rebels stood as a lodged stone in a waterfall.

"This is the address," she replied slowly, still looking up at the tall building. 

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this?" Cover asked, taking a quick look around. Shade looked from him to Zandra ravenously, becoming very worried very quickly. _Let's go, let's go_, he kept telling them in silent commands.

"Yes," was her brief response. Cover waited only a second before following her into the building.

It wasn't particularly abnormal, and that was what unsettled them the most. It's gray walls stopped at marble floors and white ceilings, more potted plants dotted the hallways with their sparse greenery. People milled to and fro, again going to their places of importance - which in truth really had no meaning at all. But the three were there for a reason. They were on a mission. 

Zandra led them to an elevator and pressed the button for level 10. Luckily, no one tried to enter the elevator with them, and they were alone. The elevator hummed to a clean start.

"What if he isn't here?" Cover asked, looking intensely at Zandra. Her face showed no emotion.

"Then we look elsewhere," came her level response. Cover was satisfied, and they continued their ascent in silence.


	21. Confucius

Protector of Men Ch 58

The restaurant was surprisingly noisy to Zandra; she had expected something more sedate, probably something more private. Shade and Cover were not as surprised, being that they had no idea in the first place of what the meeting may be like. A small French man led them through the rectangular restaurant to a head table at which a man and woman sat. Both looked over Zandra thoroughly before moving onto Shade, then Cover. It was only when Zandra opened her mouth to introduce herself that the man finally spoke.

"Hello there," he greeted in an unmistakably French accent. He spoke each word as if he enjoyed each sound as it passed his lips. A hint of a fake smile spread across his face, and Zandra tried not to grimace. Shade and Cover stood in the background, both having the feeling that this man would probably want to speak with her, the One, rather than them. They would be right.

"I am the Merovingian. And this is my wife, Persephone," he said plainly, gesturing off-handedly towards the woman. Persephone made a barely distinguishable face and looked down. That face was familiar…

"I've heard much of you," he continued, looking them over, observing them.

"The talented Zandra," he said, staring into her eyes. "_Que je ferais-il avec votre pour quinze minutes…_"(1) he added, looking at each section of her body in turn. Zandra said nothing, but held his gaze. Finally the woman next to him sighed loudly, and he consequently broke his concentration, looked away. His jaw clenched unconsciously.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, "I must admit that I have not heard of _you_ two." He made another rough gesture, this time to Cover and Shade. They acted as if he hadn't said anything, but Zandra could hear sniggering in the background. She turned, distracted by the noise, to see who was the source of the sound. Two albino men _– surely they couldn't be human_, clad in all white and dreadlocks, were suddenly quiet. One nodded at Zandra and licked his teeth provocatively, the other simply stared. Zandra shuddered and turned back to the Merovingian.

"Won't you sit down?" he asked, eyes wide with questioning. Zandra made no movement, and therefore neither did Cover, nor Shade. The Merovingian gave up after a few seconds with a sigh.

"But of course, we have more important things to do, do we not?"

Zandra was quiet.

"And importance insinuates timeliness," he continued, "And then where are we, but left running from one importance to the next - regardless of its true value, am I right?"

Zandra was still quiet.

"Let's get to business," he suddenly said, clasping his hands together and looking from one rebel to the next as if to ask, 'who's up?'

"You have someone we've been looking for," Zandra told him firmly. The man made a face.

"You _think_." He paused, then waved his hand in dismissal. "No," he told them, "You are only here because you are rebellious." He paused again. "_You_ don't know why you are here."

He suddenly laughed: a long, hearty laugh that made Zandra cringe. "Do you even know," he asked with a devious smile, "Who you are fighting for?"

"Zandra is here for a reason," Cover said, his face stony and unemotional. The Merovingian made a face and turned back to Zandra.

"My collection _has_ become rather extensive," he said quietly, a quick glance at the two twins behind Zandra and her following, "But still that does not change the fact that you are here on a _non sequitur_, a misinterpretation of sorts..."

"You have him," Zandra quipped, her voice strong. She looked at Persephone; a light flashed on the woman's eyes for a moment before she looked back down at the table. 

"_Please_," he sighed, leaning back, "I have many. As many as I can." He finished with an uncaring wave of his wrist and a flutter of his cold piercing eyes. A man came up and refilled his wine glass, leaving promptly after his job was finished.

"Mercí, vous le serviteur sans valeur "(2) he belatedly answered, wafting the aroma of wine to his face. He smiled and closed his eyes for a moment; Zandra noticed Persephone rolling her eyes.

"So _good_," he whispered, and suddenly snapped back to attention.

"Of course," he coughed, "It is only a contrivance. But so _much_ of all of this is, is it not?"

Zandra was quiet a moment before replying.

"Reality is _based_ on our perception of it," she answered. The Merovingian narrowed his eyes at her.

"No. Perception is based in reality," he said quickly, taking a sip of his wine. "And that makes you wrong in coming here." Persephone suddenly got up from her chair.

"I am _sorry_, my dear," she said to the ground, "But I must attend to things."

The Merovingian looked at her incredulously, but his expression suddenly melted to nothing. "Alright, Ma cherie," (3) he replied, "I will be awaiting your return."

She smiled wanly and left soon after. Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"So you won't help us?"

"No. _Absolutely_ no. You can be on your way then," he said, sitting back in his chair and refusing to look at any of the rebels. Zandra didn't move, and the Merovingian's eyes turned angry. He made a shooing gesture, and then didn't look at them again. He continued to sip at his wine, looking everywhere but at them. Even as she turned to leave she could hear him mutter under his breath in French. Zandra led them out.

"Tell the conjurer to watch her back," he shouted over the din of customers, "There are no _second chances_ this time."

Zandra did not acknowledge his last message. They walked back through the restaurant in silence, not noticing the crowd of people – _no, programs_? – following them out of the large room and to the elevator. Zandra noticed the number 101 on the wall next to the elevator doors. _Three_. Just like them. Zandra heard the high pitched beep and walked into the elevator, Cover and Shade following quietly behind. Zandra was surprised to see the two twins suddenly at the elevator door.

"Leaving so soon?" one asked, leaning close to Zandra, smelling her clothing, her hair_. Let the doors close_… she pleaded.

"We'll miss you," the other whispered, looking her over slowly. They continued to hover at the door as it closed, and only then did Zandra breathe a sigh of weariness and fear. Shade was trying to calm himself down behind her.

"To the Chateau?" Cover asked, not looking at Zandra. She sighed again. The elevator started its descent.

"If we have no choice," Zandra answered. Neo was _there_, she _knew_ it. The Merovingian wouldn't have spoken to her like that if he wasn't. But if Neo _was_ being imprisoned, how would they get to him? Certainly he couldn't be held in the restaurant, it would be too much of a liability. She doubted that the building had ordinary coding to it; Neo would have gone somewhere with security if he truly went willingly, like the message had said. Zandra guessed that the restaurant led to something more. Perhaps there were portals, like Neo had employed for his own safety that led to more secure places in the matrix. Perhaps…

"The Chateau is _here_," she whispered to herself. Cover and Shade stared at her for a moment, Zandra not paying attention. They let her continue to think, and everything was soon silent again.

"Oh, the things I'd do with you in fifteen minutes…" "Thanks, you worthless servant!" "Alright, my love," 


	22. Renewal

Protector of Men Ch 59

Only twenty minutes before, Trim had asked Kemp to go around and check up on Kesia and Alias. There were no squids on radar - he made sure of that. Cover had handled everything perfectly: the ship was resting on the ground in case of emergency EMP, Alias was with Kesia, ready to take them all out, and Kemp was the liaison between the two groups. Things were moving smoothly for the moment, and they were grateful for it. For now, nothing was happening.

They continued to ride the elevator down in silence. It glided down past each floor silently, joining the three in their quiet dejection. Each of them watched the top bar as it displayed their status of descent. _Twenty six, twenty five, only twenty some odd floors to go_, Zandra thought resentfully. Only a little longer until they'd be tromping their way back home without their intended spoils. Empty handed and heavy hearted. Not like her little epiphany would do them any good even if it _was_ true; the battle was already over.

But then the elevator slowed to a premature stop. Both Shade and Cover looked to Zandra, but she too had no clue as to what was going on.

The elevator doors suddenly opened to reveal the two white men that had unsettled Zandra only minutes before. One smirked, the other snarled as they each took one of her arms and led her out. She didn't even have time to comprehend what was going on before she was being roughly transported away. Shade and Cover gave each other a look before following them down the gray hallway ahead.

Zandra tried to wrestle herself out of their vice grips, but it was no use. 

"We'd watch it," one whispered to her, leaning in so that his rough hair brushed her cheek. Zandra shuddered at the feeling. Triumphant, they continued down the barren hallway. They allowed Cover and Shade to follow. They knew they were in control. 

The door ahead of them unlocked with a click; one of them ushered Zandra in while the other held the door for Cover and Shade. They eyed him suspiciously, but he only smirked back at them through his reflective lenses.

Zandra was not at all surprised to be in a room much too big for its portal. She was in fact relieved, for it meant that the restaurant was in fact more than just that. Her hopes were raised – _maybe Neo _is_ here after all…_

"Boys," a velvety voice called out from somewhere, "What are you doing with those people?"

Zandra watched the two men confer silently before responding. The voice sounded familiar, but Zandra was busy watching the men.

"We were told," one said, letting go of Zandra's arm,

"To bring them here," the second finished, also letting go. Cover and Shade were perplexed – _'them?'_ Did that mean that they had _intended_ for him and Shade to follow?

"Such a crazy man," the woman chided, stepping out from behind a standing mirror,

"He is always getting you _old_ programs to do the menial work while he sits and drinks. Slob." Zandra said nothing, her mind still reeling from the impact of that one word. _Programs_. The twins frowned at her response, clearly not flattered.

"What is it _this_ time?" she asked the two twins, a face of masked curiosity. They had nothing to say, staring forward as if she hadn't said anything at all.

"Doesn't he _worry_ I will lead them to Neo?" she mused, twirling her hair mindlessly. Zandra stood motionless, the information flooding her brain as if a dam had just been broken. Everything finally made sense. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize when Persephone suddenly took interest in her.

"Why do you look so surprised?" she asked, approaching Zandra with a look of pity on her face. Zandra did not reply.

"You convey _so much_ with only a look," she continued, caressing Zandra's face with her hand. Zandra flinched unconsciously; Persephone's eyes darted to Shade.

"Hm. You _all_ look like you're enjoying this lovely mess," she sighed. The woman let her hand drop from Zandra's cheek and retreated. 

"Boys," she announced, looking in their direction, "I'm going to find my husband."

The two nodded as she left them, then turned their ravenous eyes back on Zandra.

He was restless in his lavish prison, pacing incessantly up and down next to his undone bed. Something was happening; he had a feeling that something was wrong. If he was going to try and get out, now would be the time. 

He hoped that it was Zandra coming to get him. It was possible, definitely, but a small part of him doubted her. Hell, he couldn't even trust _himself_ anymore after what he had done. This was all happening again because of a stupid choice. _Choice_, he remembered ruefully, was always the problem. And where had it gotten him? Into a self-imposed prison where he was nearly forced into prostitution by a program. _A program!_ Neo hated his existence, and everything that had previously held him back – fear of discovery, fear of 'deletion', if _tha_t was what would happen… - was not a problem anymore. It couldn't get any worse; things could only get better. And this was his chance.

But there was something more to it; something nagging at him that wouldn't go away. Zandra wasn't the only one there he recognized. _Who was it?_ It had been so long since he had encountered anyone other than Zandra or Emory that his memory began to fail him. There was something about the code around him that was different, someone there that he remembered… but he couldn't recall what. Neo sighed loudly and refocused his efforts on getting out. Things would be so much easier had the Keymaker not been killed…

He walked up to the door of his room, tested the handle. Of course, it was locked. But it would not be as easy as changing the code, he reminded himself, certainly they would have put special degrees of protection against him. Maybe if Persephone came in again, he could lure her into letting him out. _No,_ that wouldn't work, she'd know…

Neo sighed again, his shoulders slumped in temporary defeat. 

Things were unnaturally quiet back in the entryroom. Zandra tried not to stare at the Twins, but it was hard not to. All they did was stare at her, and it was extremely unsettling for her. 

Shade broke the silence first: "What are you?" was his badly worded question. He regretted asking it even as the words passed his lips. It was too late though - he had already spoken.

"What _are_ we?" One answered, his lips contorted into a cruel smile. 

"We are… _dangerous_," the other finished, mimicking the other with a similar grin. It was soon silent again.

The Merovingian was having a tough time in the restaurant. A few… _guests_… had appeared that he did not approve of in the least.

"I assure you," he said hurriedly, a little nervously, "That there is nothing of the sort here. I am a trafficker, not a policeman."

"I _know_ he's here," Smith said, moving closer to the Merovingian, "You're not getting in _my_ way."

More Smiths closed in on the man, quickly overwhelming his sense of defense. Long ago had all the programs and people evacuated the restaurant, and now it was only the Merovingian and his henchmen against the seemingly endless Smiths. Things were not looking good.

But the Merovingian still had his façade of coolness.

"You threaten _me_?" he asked the Smith closest to him. Every Smith now had an expression of disgust, of unbelieving confusion.

"Where _is_ he?" they finally asked, waiting for a response.

They were all quiet for a moment; some of the Smiths cracked their necks or twisted their ties. One of them checked his gun.

"Boys," the Merovingian called, summoning his men from the dark recesses of the room, "Take care of this blagueur (1). I have more _pressing_ needs to be attended to."

And thus the second fight begun.

1. "Clown,"


	23. Beginning to Go Right

Protector of Men Ch 60

"What is going on, my love?" Persephone asked her husband who looked rather ruffled from something. She was a little confused, a little hesitant to ask… but did nonetheless.

"La chienne d'un problème dans cette situation horrible…" (1) he mumbled, completely ignoring her. He continued to whisper slurred curses to himself as he blew completely past her, aiming for the entryroom. _I will not let this happen again_, he thought resentfully, _I will not let them get the better of me!_ Enveloped in himself, he neglected to even recognize that his wife had spoken, and continued to walk away.

"Why do you continue to be a _prick_," she asked after him, knowing fully that he would not respond. 

"_Every_ time." And Persephone went her own way. If he was going to act the same as before, then she would too. Persephone didn't forget easily, and though thirty some years had been a long time, the memories lay fresh in her mind. After all, Neo hadn't exactly been… _gracious_… to her hospitality, either.

Zandra was now wandering the entryroom lazily, knowing that without help, she wouldn't be able to get anywhere. _Every_ door would be locked.

She looked at the weaponry on the walls – swords, knives of every kind adorned the cream colored boundaries, along with the Greek statues every six feet or so. It was elegant, but somewhat foreboding at the same time. Zandra noticed the 'M' painted on the wall in front of her, probably for 'Merovingian'. She wouldn't have been surprised.

Zandra sighed and walked towards the wall, eyeing one of the swords with interest. Such craftsmanship, such beauty melded into something so deadly… it enticed her with its sheen. The twins did nothing as she plucked it off the wall and examined it. She looked at them for a moment, but they made no gesture of recognition. So she walked up to the top of the stairs and sat on the banister, her legs dangling off the rail like a child on a seat too tall. She smiled at Shade and Cover who were staring at her with their mouths open.

"We can't do _anything_ now," she told them, swinging her legs in a mixture of boredom and nervousness, "We can't get out without a key, and _they're_," she pointed to the twins with her sword, "Not going to do anything."

Cover looked at the Twins for a moment, then looked back at Zandra.

"Surely we can do _something_," he asked, "Is the informant here?"

"Neo? I'm sure he is." 

Shade spoke up quietly.

"But if they have keys…"

Zandra glared at him, but her eyes soon turned cheerful again. With a swing she jumped off the banister and landed with a tap onto the ground, approaching the Twins with masked confidence. The twins could see through it; Zandra stayed a good five feet away.

"Are you just going to _keep_ us here?" she asked, keeping her distance. One of the Twins' hands reflexively jerked into his pocket; Zandra had a feeling that he was reaching for a weapon. She backed off, and the twins relaxed a bit.

"Until further notice," One said, the other stepping a bit closer to the first. They gave Zandra another evil sneer, but Zandra was quickly becoming bored of their responses. They were almost predictable, and though she _was_ afraid of them, she was quickly getting over it. She rolled her eyes – thankful for the reflective protection of her sunglasses, and went back to the wall.

"Get something," she advised Cover and Shade, "Something's going to happen, eventually." Reluctantly they got up and joined her, Shade taking a pair of small daggers, while Cover opted for a sword like Zandra's. They shrugged, and went back down to the bottom of the stairs to wait for something to transpire.

Neo was waiting for the door to open; he had heard her footsteps long ago and was now anticipating the twist of that doorknob that would free him from his Bordeaux prison.

It opened a crack and he inserted his hand in it, pulling the door open wide so that he could escape without Persephone creating a problem. But he paused: her face told him something was up. She looked bored, like _she was expecting him to escape?_

"Go to them, if you _want_," she said, sighing.

His face displayed confusion, but there was no time for him to ponder. There had been absolutely too much time devoted to that _lately_. A chance for action. He began to run down the hallway, Persephone still stood at the door.

"They're in the main hall," she called out after him. Persephone tensed her jaw, stuck. Was this really what she wanted to happen?_ Perhaps this had been a mistake…_

Neo looked around him in the hallway. There were so many doors, which one could he go through? Certainly Persephone wouldn't have unlocked every one for him. His eyes and mind searched the code around him, looking for the unlocked door, the open portal… right in front of his face. Neo pushed the open door a little wider, and went in.

"Why do they _hate _her?"

"They're jealous."

"That can't be the _only_ reason."

"It _is_."

Kemp sighed loudly and sat on the ground, not satisfied with Trim's answer. 

"That woman didn't kidnap her because she was _jealous_."

"They can't _deny_ it," he shot back defensively, "There's no other reason."

"Kesia said that Echo was mad about Tevy," Kemp replied. Trim narrowed his eyes and went back to watching the radar. Still there was nothing.

"Some people said he died because she was a coward," Trim answered, quietly. An afterthought, "But they're _bastards_."

"Don't they know what she can do?"

"If they can't, they're _blind_." And they continued to talk about other things, Kemp soon moving to sit in the unoccupied seat next to Trim.

Kesia was similarly unoccupied. She had been just watching the trio in the matrix, trying to catch a glimpse of their elusive code, waiting for something big to happen, when she got a line request from Zion. She accepted reluctantly, and almost dreaded the person she'd soon see on the small link screen.

"Hello Kesia," a man said, nodding once in courtesy. It was Councilor Gallup, the lead councilor of Zion. He looked pleased, and Kesia was a little nervous by his presence.

"Is Cover there?"

"Ah, no… – sir," she fumbled, her heart beginning to race, "He's jacked in right now with Zandra and Shade."

Gallup nodded once in comprehension, "I am not surprised. Do _you _have a moment then?" Kesia nodded quickly.

"We just wanted to let you know that the Council is backing Purgatory one-_hundred_ percent. We heard about the little incident a few days ago and are _truly_ embarrassed by our lack of control in the matter. Something like that should _never_ happen in Zion. We need to unite; lest I have to remind everyone that we _are_ participating in a war."

Kesia nodded a few times in rapid succession.

"We've spoken to the Zion Interface and they've agreed to tone down the opposition a bit. They admitted that much of the negativity was from a desire for _drama_, and not out of true controversy, which is a _little_ saddening, is it not?"

"Yes – sir," Kesia answered quietly.

"Again, I _apologize_. Zandra shouldn't have to worry about danger in Zion as _well_ as danger in the matrix. Just too much for her to handle – she's already got enough on her plate, I'm sure."

He paused for a moment, looking up, probably asking himself if there was anything else that needed to be spoken.

"That's all I can remember for now," he finally said, shrugging his shoulders.

"_Oh_, please tell Zandra to come to the room assignment center once she gets back to Zion." He looked down a second. "It seems her friend left her some possessions of his, as well as his apartment. So if she can come by then, we'd appreciate it."

Kesia nodded again, and the conversation terminated. She blinked a few times – a lot of information had been told in the past minute. Alias was silent behind her.

"I guess Zion's coming to its senses," she said. Kesia nodded and went back to watching Zandra. Hopefully things would start happening soon – they had already wasted much of their time already.

1. "Bitch of a problem… this horrible situation…"


	24. Reunion

Protector of Men Ch 61

"Zandra," Neo breathed, appearing at the top of the stairs. Zandra's eyes turned wide and she leapt up to him, amazed.

"How'd you get here?" she asked, looking him over. 

"I was let out."

"They _let _you _out_?" Came Shade's voice from the lower level, his face showing the utter confusion he was experiencing. 

Neo looked to the Twins, who were now sneering in their corner. "You," he breathed. One of them made a fake smile that quickly disappeared.

"yes," he replied rudely,

"_Us_." The other finished. Zandra looked from the twins to Neo. Obviously there was some kind of history that she didn't know of, but this was not the time to ask questions. They had to get him out.

"How do we get out of here?" she asked him, trying to get his attention as he looked around the hall in a mix of wonder and nostalgia. His mind was snapped back to the present when a door burst open from the stairs below, the Merovingian came forth with a look of utter surprise and rage.

"Ah!" he shouted, eyes alighted, "Persephone! Encore ce whore me trahit!" (*Again this whore betrays me!*) Neo looked at Zandra and silently told her to be ready. Below them, Cover and Shade were retreating slowly up the stairs to where he and Zandra stood, Zandra gripping her sword as if it would fall out of her hands if she were not careful. The Merovingian continued to mutter, looking about the hall desperately.

"Cette petite chienne le laisse encore, la fera hors n'apprend jamais à obéir... merde d'un âne.." (*This little bitch ruins it again, she will never learn to obey... shit of an ass..*) He suddenly stopped, and looked at the Twins.

"Don't just _stand _there," he shouted, pointing at the group of rebels above, "_Kill_ them!" The twins looked at each other and grinned an icy smile; Zandra watched as the Merovingian stormed out of the room with another foreign bout of exclamations. She looked to Neo, and he nodded once.

"Here we go."

One of the twins pulled out a switchblade and began twirling it in his hands like a baton; the other slowly began walking up the stairs.

"Zandra," Cover warned, looking a little afraid. She shook her head once, and got her sword ready. She wasn't just going to wait for them to attack – she'd do it first. _The twins might be creepy_, she thought with a shudder, _but they can't be invincible._

Suddenly the twins stopped for a moment, looked at each other over their sunglasses. Zandra felt a ripple of energy pass through her, and looked to Neo for a moment in hopes that he would explain the momentary pause and flaw. She thought she could detect a hint of reaction behind his dark sunglasses. Quickly she turned back to the twins. One shrugged, and then they continued up the stairs.

"Something's going on out there," Neo whispered. Zandra nodded, and stepped onto the banister above everyone else. She couldn't let the twins get to Cover or Shade, it would have to be her and Neo against them. Someone would have to start things, and Zandra figured that it would have to be her. She readied her sword and launched herself to the side, landing right behind the albino programs. With her free hand, she pulled out her Micro-Uzi from her holster. Above, she could see Neo pulling a sword off of the wall for himself, inspecting it before going to the top of the stairs. One of the twins turned to Zandra and smiled before readying his own blade. So it started.

"Puis-je vous aider?" (*How may I help you?*) the Maitre-d' asked, examining his reservation book thoroughly. He didn't care to look at the guests that now approached. If he had, he wouldn't have asked. 

Johnson pulled out his Desert Eagle and pointed it at the man's head. He laughed once weakly, then gulped and was silent.

"Where is Smith," he asked monotone, his gun only inches away from the maitre-d's forehead.

"I will show you the way," he allowed, scuttling to the door and unlocking it before letting the agents pass. Once the agents had left him alone, he promptly fainted.

Inside the restaurant things were fairly quiet. Roughly a hundred Smiths were standing, milling, sitting on the ground, and one of them had his gun pointed at another. When the agents came in, he fired, the Smith falling to the ground in a flash. _Shit_, the clones thought as the agents sauntered in. _Three more to get rid of._

"Program AS:874, you have been scheduled for deletion. You are _no longer_ necessary," Jackson said, stepping forward. "_Submit_ yourself."

"_Submit_?" One of the Smiths asked, stepping forward. "Why _submit_ when I can _rebel_?" 

Smith didn't realize how much he sounded like one of the _very_ rebels that he had been created to destroy. 

The agents narrowed their eyes and began to shoot. 

But the Smiths were not worried – they were expendable. All it would take was a few of him to overwhelm the agents, and one by one they'd be gone. It didn't matter if a _few_ of them were killed, because there were too many of them anyway. 

"Damn him," the Merovingian muttered in an unseen corner of the room. All of his henchman had been killed, and now he'd be scraping the barrel for any further protection from Neo, Zandra, Smith, and now the agents as well. The Merovingian swore silently, and slammed the door behind him on his way to the dungeon. 

Zandra didn't hesitate to shoot. Before the twin could get a stair closer to her, she opened fire with her small weapon, making sure that no one else could get in the way. But the twin phased, and reappeared with an even more devious smile than before.

"Oh, _shit_," she whispered, backing away and down the stairs. "What _are_ you?"

The twin only smiled broader, wielding his knife like liquid, moving his arm to and fro like a carefully choreographed dance. He enjoyed watching Zandra's expression, he delighted in it. She was so fearful, so _confused…_

"Neo?" she shouted, reaching the floor of the hall with her sword pointed at the approaching twin. He paused from his intense fighting to look down at Zandra, but only for a moment. Cover and Shade stood motionless in the back of the hall, watching Neo intently. _He's amazing_, Cover thought… _perhaps even better than Zandra…_

Neo couldn't help her now, she'd be on her own. _Anticipate_, she reminded herself, raising her sword higher. The twin scoffed and then ran at her, his own dagger raised as well.

Luckily, she had the upper hand, weapon-wise. As he came at her, she thrust her own sword in his direction, causing him to phase and back off momentarily. Zandra was still put off by the phasing: she wasn't sure what else this program could do…

She twisted her sword around her, trying desperately to ward off the evil twin by showing him her skills. It didn't work, and the twin made a face of boredom before flying at her again. 

Cover and Shade were getting restless at the top of the hall. Watching Neo fight effortlessly gave them hope, and soon they had decided to do a little combat of their own. Shade silently decided to help Zandra, while Cover relented, and went to aid Neo. Not that either needed aiding, but more that the two didn't want to be cowards in the small fight. After all, they were only two twins, _how hard could it be?_

Zandra was quickly tiring of this new situation. If she couldn't injure the foe, how would they beat them? Soon enough she would fatigue, and then where would she be? Probably at their mercy. And Zandra guessed that they possessed little of that.

She was locked into close battle with the twin, desperately thrusting her sword, continually getting nothing. The twin was still smiling: he knew that she was growing weary of the fight. But perhaps he wouldn't kill her immediately… _we always love a good fighter_, he thought along with his twin, _perhaps we can have some fun?_

Enveloped in himself the twin did not realize that behind him, Shade had pulled out his gun. Zandra did her best to mask her realization, and continued to fight with her sword. Shade pulled the trigger and fired three times into the twin, but his aim was bad. Instantly the program was injured, but not badly. The twin stopped fighting and turned around slowly, looking at Shade with a visage of pacifism. He looked at his mangled arm and frowned in thought. Upstairs the other twin had stopped fighting too, and looked down at his brother in silence.

"_That_ wasn't nice," the twin said, inspecting his bloodied white jacket. Everyone watched in silence. 

"We didn't _like _that," the other finished. The twin downstairs suddenly phased for a moment, then went back to his solid form, and inspected his arm again.

"Well look at _that_," he mused, smiling at Shade whose eyes were now the size of dinnerplates, "No harm done."

Everything then turned into a frenzy. The twin flew at Shade, Zandra behind him, attempting to slash him with her sword. Shade backed off panicked, the twin continuing to phase each time he fired his weapon. Above Neo was sparring with the other twin, Cover soon giving up on assistance. Neo could handle himself – and he was even quicker than the twin. Soon he decided to aide Shade, and slid down the banister of the stairs to reach the other battle. But suddenly everyone stopped. 

A door opened.

A/N – Geez, there's so much stuff happening, I have to keep reading past chapters again so I don't get confused. Just got back from choir kickoff party… bleh… was there for 6 hours because of officer stuff. My feet hurt. 

Next weekend I won't be able to update, I'll be in North Carolina for a college visit. But I'll be thinking of you! Yeah, I'm updating pretty quickly, but having a bit of writers block, and I'm REALLY REALLY SORRY but it may take me a few days to upload. Like three or four. But I won't forget about you guys, I promise. It's just hard to write climaxes, and I've had an assload of homework lately. Like six papers and a frickin huge biology project. Fun stuff.


	25. A Perplexing Hysteria

Protector of Men Ch 62

"_Boys_," Persephone chided, closing the doors quietly behind her, "I'm _disappointed_ in you." The two twins suddenly stood straight, and pocketed their blades with hardly a sideways glance at each other.

"Fighting like you have no _minds_. I _shouldn't_ be surprised,"

"We were only doing,"

"What we were told,"

"Oh I don't doubt _that_," she sighed, meddling with her nails, "He can be such an _ass_…"

Persephone suddenly looked up to Neo, a look of longing briefly passing over her otherwise stoic mask. In an instant she turned angry again.

"If _he'_s going to do the same, then _I_ will as well," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. The twins looked at each other; all Zandra could do was watch the events unfold. Persephone pulled out a key from the folds of her dress and presented it to Zandra; she accepted it with a wary hand, trying to watch all of Persephone, the twins, and Neo at the same time. 

"You _poor_ thing," Persephone lamented, taking Zandra's hand from her side and caressing it for a moment. Zandra's eyes were wide, they displayed all the fear she then possessed. 

"That key," she continued, still holding her hand loosely, "Takes you back out."

Zandra nodded quickly, and soon Persephone had retreated to the door again. But they suddenly heard a noise, and Persephone was shoved from the door towards one of the twins, who in turn retreated halfway up the stairs. They all looked to the door, asessing the new threat.

"Ah, _Persephone_!" The Merovingian shouted, flanked by a group of darkened men. "You betray me… _again_! Vous le chien dégoûtant, vous salissez, retors, trichant, couchant, la chienne!" (*You filthy dog! You dirty, devious, cheating, lying bitch!*) He paused for a moment, and walked up to the woman so that they were only inches from each others' faces. Persephone simply watched with amusement as the man became redder.

"Vous le traitre! Je quel suis pour faire avec vous?" (*You traitor! What am I going to do with you?*)

Persephone said nothing, and merely smiled. The Merovingian's eyes turned wide, and he abruptly turned around, crossing his arms in indignation. Again, Zandra and her crew were left speechless, powerless in the strange situation.

"Don't you _remember_?" she asked the man sweetly, her eyes full of innocence, "_Cause and effect_,"

The Merovingian's head lowered in stature, he closed his eyes and sighed. Zandra erroneously decided that it would be a good time to back off, and quietly began to slink up the stairs toward where Neo stood. _He would know what to do_. With her eyes she motioned for Cover and Shade to follow her, but she did not notice that all eyes were soon on her.

"Oh _no_ you _don't_," the Merovingian warned, gesturing for his men, who all wore varying looks of menace, "_You're_ not leaving,"

But before his men could attack, another pound was heard. All programs looked to the door, anticipating the entry of someone new. But the door did not open; whoever was behind it just kept banging louder and louder. No one moved, except for Persephone, who walked past the Merovingian to open the door. But she was stopped: the man held her arm tightly, and she could not move.

"Will you not let me _leave_?" she asked, looking over his face for any sign of emotion. He relented, let her go with a sigh that sounded more like a growl. With a small smile the woman walked to the door. She didn't expect who was behind it.

Trim was on the PA. "Kesia, how are we doing in there?"

"I can't quite tell," she replied into her headset, "The building's got some kind of coding in it I can't decipher,"

"Are they allright?" 

Alias could detect a bit of trepidation in his voice.

"I think so," she replied slowly, "Every now and then I catch a glimpse of them, they look alright."

"Ok," he sighed from the cockpit, "It's been oddly quiet in here too."

"Can I have your mike?" was Alias' question. Kesia nodded quietly and handed it to her.

"Hey Trim," she asked a little loudly, trying to get his attention. Trim was momentarily confused, but got back on track.

"Yeah?"

"Is Kemp there?"

"Uh, no," he answered, looking out the door to the hallway outside, "She left a while ago. She might be in the mess room."

Things were quiet for a few seconds while Alias handed the headset back to Kesia and went off to find Kemp. After a while, Trim spoke up again.

"What time are we at?" he asked, hoping to get a response.

"Right around two hours," she answered, "They're doing fine timewise."

"I hope so," he replied, and their conversation ended.

"Every second… an eternity… gonna find us…" he mumbled to himself, setting his feet back up on the chair next to him. He was voicing his troubles accurately: with every passing moment, the chance of sentinels finding them became greater. As the hours passed, he became more and more skeptical of Covers words… _certainly they'd have to jack out before six hours had passed; Sentinels were all over the place_. He sighed loudly and went back to his work, mindlessly watching the radar for any sign of danger. The seconds ticked by slowly.

Downstairs from the restaurant the agents had finally arrived again. They were a little perplexed, left to ask the mainframe for direction while they wandered the building, vainly attempting to find the rebels. Thompson pressed his earpiece to his head.

"The rogue is still there," he announced to the group, looking ahead. The two other agents quickly snapped to attention.

"How many?"

"Six."

And soon they were all requesting more information, pressing their earpieces against their craniums as if holding their heads in place. They were so close to eradicating everything… but it would have to be done right. Upstairs was a much different story: things were going very _very _wrong.

Everything was silent for a moment, but a moment only. 

"Oh, shit," Neo breathed, gripping his sword tighter. "_Zandra_," he called in a voice of distress, as the intruders burst into the room like a flood escaping from a broken dam. Both she and the Smiths looked up at Neo at the same time, which just caused him more trouble. 

"Get _out_ of my _house_," the Merovingian huffed at the Smiths, his brow furrowed in fury. Persephone was backing away quickly and quietly; the twins merely watched the scene with smiles of amusement. They enjoyed chaos.

Unfortunately, the Smiths payed no more attention to the Frenchman than a blustering old man. And he was – the Smiths (roughly six of them) brushed through the door with a sneer and went after Neo.

"_Zandra,"_ Neo shouted again, a note of warning. The Merovingian looked around as if he were lost, Persephone watching him intently. Suddenly he shook himself out of his stupor and gestured to his guards.

"Take them all!" He shouted, "Do it!"

A/N – it is coming together… yesss… good to listen to crazy REVOLUTIONS music while writing! Hah, yes I found some. :( It'll take me a few more days to update again, I'm gonna be gone at Davidson from Friday to Sunday. But I've written 64, and I'll probably have 65 done soon. 

Zuma – You like Clay Aiken? Unfortunately, I never really kept up with American Idol… I get a little jealous of their good voices, lol! Yeah, I check my email during my Web II class as well, you're not the only one! Hehe.

Alocin – yeah, they really do. They can be all mean and stuff and its cool! But not nice characters, when they're mean… they get punished… like echo! 

Aqua Phoenix1 – oh, I'd never let anticipation KILL you… I formulate it so it just leaves you a little insane. There's no clinical harm, but there definitely may be some psychological side-effects… just kidding.

*Just a random interesting fact I learned in biology the other day – equilibrium kills! It's kind of ironic actually, each living organism spends its whole life trying to reach equilibrium – to be in a more sedate state of being – but if you actually get there, you die. Apply THAT one to your everyday life, it's a little depressing! 


	26. Bleak

Protector of Men Ch 63

Kesia was watching the matrixian screens with dismay when Colombus called up. Too many people in too small of an area – and now Smith was there too? Things were not looking good in the land of dreams. Kesia's heart rate was fast, and she jumped at the blinking light that suddenly appeared. It was Colombus, requesting a line. Kesia sighed inwardly and took a look around her before accepting. Alias was gone, and Kemp was with Trim. Good.

"Hi, Kesia," Colombus said, a small smile on her face. Kesia greeted the captain appropriately, and let her continue with whatever missive she had to deliver.

"Is Cover there?"

"No," Kesia replied, "He's in with Zandra and Shade."

Colombus' eyes grew a little wide, she frowned in thought.

"What are they doing?"

"They're trying to get the informant," she said, "But it's not looking so good."

"Are they allright?"

"For now," she answered honestly, "But there's a lot of crazy stuff going on…"

"Do they need someone to go in there?"

"Well… ah," Kesia stumbled to find the correct and prudent response, "I really can't…"

"Where are they?"  
"I can give you coordinates," Kesia finally allowed in a small voice. Colombus took them graciously, then mentioned something about maybe checking in later. Yet, even Kesia could see that she was worried. 

"Well I just wanted to let him know that we let go Echo,"

Kesia blinked a few times; the incident was still fresh in her mind. 

"But we also-"

"Kesia, we've got problems…!"

It was Trim's voice on the PA system, he sounded afraid. Concerned, she stopped listening to Colombus and connected herself to the cockpit line.

"Trim," she called. Meanwhile Colombus stopped talking and looked at Kesia, wondering what was going on.

"Kesia, we've got 7," he breathed quietly, as if the sentinels would be able to detect his voice from the innards of the ship. Kesia's heart rate immediately went up again.

"What's going on?" Colombus asked

"Uh, hold on…"

"Trim, where are they?"

"Twenty thousand. But they'll eventually find us…"

"Kesia, what's wrong?"

Kesia bit her lip. 

"Uh, sorry captain, we've got a bit of a sentinel problem,"

"Sentinels?"

"Yeah, and I can't call Cover, and they're stuck-"

"We'll send someone for you," Colombus replied, but to no avail. Kesia felt helpless suddenly, sentinels with no EMP and three in the matrix? The One stuck in dreamworld while the real fell in heaps around them? _Shit, shit…_

Colombus ended the line and suddenly Kesia was alone again. The room around her was silent – only the humming of the heater and air could be heard. But that would change soon enough.

Everything suddenly began moving very quickly. Zandra had to snap her mind back to attention, take a mental count of how many people they were fighting. But first, she had to get to Neo. The rebels knew she held the key, and without her, they'd be lost. She fought her way up the stairs and to Neo, who was watching her with alarm on his face. Cover and Shade would be close behind, and even further would be either the Smiths, or the Merovingian's lackeys. She didn't want to be in either of their possessions. 

"Key!" Neo shouted, moving towards one of the doors, gesturing for Zandra to throw it to him. She did, and they both watched the shining talisman as it sailed through the air, cleanly landing in Neo's open palm. 

"Hold them off," he ordered, pointing his sword behind her and towards the large group of killers. Cover and Shade had now arrived at the top of the stairs, and she knew that the rest would not be far behind. Smith was the first to show himself, he sneered at Neo before making a jump for him.

"Neo!" Zandra immediately shouted, but there wouldn't be enough time. She knew he would be unlocking the door, and wouldn't see him coming – _you have to stop him!_

Instantly time slowed down as she turned on her heels to stop the soaring Smith in his mid-flight attack. She gripped her sword tighter as she ran in the now close quarters, could see Cover moving slowly to her right, attempting to hold his own against one of the Merovingian's men… but Smith was still going for Neo, a look of pure animosity on his face. It had only been a fraction of a second; Neo hadn't even seen what was going on, he was so wrapped up in getting them out. Zandra was gaining on the Smith, her sword now pointed upwards as she intercepted him from the side, getting ready to knock him down with her sceptre of death. A few more inches forward and she slammed down the sword, knocking the Smith to the floor in a sweep of her arms. The confused Smith looked around for a moment as the world sped back up for Zandra, perhaps looking for the source of injury. But he died before he caught a glance of her, she was already gone and fighting again. 

The twins were not happy, not happy at all. Downstairs they gave each other a quick glance and phased into the ground, getting ready for their real debut. Zandra wouldn't know what hit her once they were finished. _We will get them._

"Zandra," Shade called, obviously having some trouble fending off his share of attackers.

"Zandra," Neo called in urgency.

_Shit._

Zandra didn't have much time to make a decision, but she acted well in the split second that she had. Moving into high gear, she went over to Shade to help him get out. He was soon becoming surrounded by the Merovingian's lackeys, who were fighting with small knives. Luckily, they had no guns on them.

Still, Zandra was pressed for time. _Faster_, she urged as she joined in the fray, _help him out!_ She held her sword tighter as she advanced upon the lackey in front of her, facing Shade whose visage was now contorted into a look of resignation_. Faster!_ The man almost had him pinned, his knife was getting closer to Shade's exposed abdomen…

With a quick expulsion of breath she swung her gleaming sword across the enemy's side and sent him flying with an arc of blood that hit the floor with a splash. Shade suddenly blinked, and the other two lackeys surrounding him stopped for a moment to size up their new foe. 

"Don't hesitate!" The Merovingian screamed from below, the words echoing slowly in Zandra's quickened mind. She was suddenly reminded of her own haste, and grabbed Shade's hand, thrusting him towards Neo without even looking in his direction. Cover's turn.

Cover too was becoming overwhelmed by the resistance – at least ten of their foes were surrounding him, closing in for the kill... Zandra leapt into the fight at the right moment, but just barely.

"Zandra," Neo called again. _I'm coming! Faster!_

"More!" One of the Smiths suddenly shouted, and plunged an arm into Cover's chest. He screamed and became stiff, and the Merovingian's lackeys backed off slowly, letting Zandra see what was going on. 

_What?_

Cover's body was slowly becoming covered with what looked like oil, spreading like a virus across his unmoving body. The Smith smiled a wide and evil grin.

"Teach him to evade _me_," he mumbled, continuing to smile. Cover was beginning to make coughing noises at Zandra, but Zandra did nothing. The Smith couldn't even tell she was there.

_What?_

Zandra could faintly hear Neo calling her name again, it sounded far away, like a plea… meanwhile she still stood transfixed by what was transpiring in front of her.

Time was running out.

A/N – woohoo, back from Davidson. That was really fun – now I only pray that I get in!! Two things: first of all, these few chapters have been really hard to write… for some reason or another. I think because I'm trying to tie everything together, but things just seem…. Weird. I'm not apologizing, I don't think I should, but it's an acknowledgement of something that may or may not be evident. Not sure.

Second thing: thinking about sending in a sample of my writing with my application, do you guys have any favorite chapters or anything? Just a poll… Because of college stuff, my story may be continuing to slow down. I only have one chapter in reserves, another in the makings, so I won't be able to upload every day anymore! Sad. :(

Aqua Phoenix1 – Yeah, the Merovingian to me is a pissy little man, lol. Like a spiky ugly teddy bear. :)

MicroChips – oh, ok – at least it's not me! Lol

Alocin – that's okay to will smith on – he's not ALL bad… *wink wink~*

Zuma – I'm so glad you like Persephone! Everyone seems to hate her. Oh yeah… as far as battles are concerned… just… yeah. I don't want to give anything away yet… but some things may surprise you.

Thank you EVERYONE for reviewing! It really brightens up my day to see that people actually enjoy what falls out of my head! Haha. Seriously though, I really appreciate it. Thank you!


	27. Get Out!

Protector of Men Ch 64

"Zandra!" Neo shouted, exasperated. Time was running out, and there was no room for further error. He was becoming worried, she wasn't answering his calls. The door was open, their escape was in their grasp, but she wasn't coming. Neo looked around him, she was helping her friend fight some of the Merovingian's men. Suddenly Shade was thrust his way, looking a little dazed and adrenaline-ridden. Neo clapped him on the shoulder and threw him through the small portal to their right, and Shade jogged to the edge of the room in front of them. But Zandra still was not answering his calls.

"Zandra!" he shouted again, craning his neck further to try and ascertain what she was doing. He leaned forward, his foot holding the door open. Something was keeping everyone busy, and it bothered him. Something more was going on.

Neo put his sword into the crack in the door and skipped to the stairwell hoping to see what was going on.

"Shit."

Zandra stood enveloped in the Smiths, one of which was now copying himself to her leader, the one she called Cover. Neo flew down to the battle and kicked the Smith that was attacking her captain, the rogue agent thumping down the stairs and skidding to a halt next to the intricate doorway below. Zandra suddenly fell out of her trance, as did the Smiths around her. Everyone looked to Neo. Cover's face was long, he was obviously a little shocked. 

_No time!_ They all thought simultaneously. In a second Neo had thrown both Zandra and Cover back up the stairs and to the door. A second later he was standing over them, pulling them up and through the portal before any of the Smiths could follow. Cover lay dazed on the ground of the portal, but Zandra shook her head and came to her senses. 

Neo was grimacing, trying to hold the door closed, while hands grabbed at the open crack in attempts to pull it open against his will. He looked like he was struggling, and losing the battle. Each microsecond that passed the door opened a crack wider, exposing more hands in the sliver of light that was given off. Zandra didn't have much time – she pulled out her gun and shot at the hands, Shade soon joining her from behind. Some of the hands retreated, others stayed. But soon enough, there were none left to grab. Neo was able to slam the door with a grunt and wiped his now blood stained hands on his black jacket. His face expressed exhaustion, and he sighed wearily before letting his shoulders sag. Zandra changed clips on her gun and looked to Neo, then looked around her.

"This is our escape?"

"I'm not sure," Neo answered slowly, not looking at her, "There's something wrong with the code."

"The code?"

Everything was quiet for a second; they all looked to Neo, confused.

"You mean you can't see it?"

"No…"

Neo looked down for a moment and swore silently. _How could she have gotten so far without seeing the code? _Had this all been a hoax to get him to surrender himself to the mainframe? After all these years, was he to be tricked by a program he thought was one of his own? No, certainly the machines hadn't become that adept at mimicking human behaviour… But it was still possible. _She couldn't see the code?_ That was just too radical. But she looked honest enough, they all did. The machines couldn't mimick that: confusion. No, they would be too _arrogant_ to comprehend something like that. Zandra was true, at least for now. Neo could ponder more later; now he was fighting for his life – for his _existence?_

Fighting for all of their lives. But everyone continued to look at Neo, and he remembered the situation at hand.

"No time to explain now. We have to get out of here,"

They all nodded quietly.

Kesia was speaking with Wrought, the captain of the Calling. Something was wrong, she could tell just from his expression. But there was no time for his problems: Purgatory was having problems enough itself. 

"Hi Wrought," she greeted hurriedly, trying to remember Trim's last words as they echoed into darkness in her mind, _"7, Kesia, they're gonna find us…"_

"Kesia, I'll be brief," he told her, eyes darting back and forth_, what is wrong with him?_

"The Oracle contacted us, said you'd be in trouble."

"Sentinels," she answered unconsciously, a trickle of sweat forming on her brow. Things were quiet in the main deck, but the cockpit was abuzz with energy. All of Trim, Kemp, and Alias were there, trying to formulate some kind of plan to evade the sentinels. But there wasn't much. Kesia felt cut off, paranoid knowing that Trim and the girls were planning their survival only two rooms away. It was so quiet…

"I _heard_," he answered with a quick sigh, "But I got something to tell you,"

"Kesia," came Trim's voice from her headpiece, "I think they're going to scan!" His voice came in a hurried whisper, a rough quiet that chilled her to the bone. _Scanning…_

"Wrought, they're _scanning_ us," she answered, fidgeting in her chair. There was no use getting off the computers though, they couldn't turn the EMP without killing Cover, Shade, and Zandra. _The One_. And all would be lost.

"She said that Zandra's in trouble too," he told her, rushed. "She said you can't see it, but she's in there fighting for their lives. She said you have to tell Zandra to open the gray door,"

Kesia didn't interrupt – the information was too precious. _A gray door? And how would she contact them?_ It had been hard enough to even see them for a second, let alone long enough to call them… but she had no choice. 

"Kesia, they're moving to scan!" Came Trim's voice, a barely audible squeak. Kesia swore quietly, Wrought began rocking in his seat.

"We're too far to help," he said, eyes full of sadness. _So that was how it was going to be_. Kesia's heart fell instantly. They'd be alone, in a one-armed fight. There was no use. She stopped breathing for a moment…

"But we're getting Stotte," he answered quickly, "Their captain, Aegir offered to help once he heard from Colombus that you were in trouble. He's on his way."

Kesia sighed and said a quick goodbye. 

"Trim," she whispered back into her headset, "Stotte's coming."

It took a while for Trim to answer, but he did.

"Shit Kesia, I don't think it's gonna matter," he answered truthfully, "They've finished their scan."

Suddenly Kesia heard muffled sounds emanate from her headpiece, it sounded like people moving around in the cockpit, a muffled expletive, and more shuffling. 

"What's happening?" Kesia asked, unaware she had just voiced her question.

"We're going to try and fight them," Trim answered, his voice sounding rather strange. 

"Are they _still_ not answering your calls?"

"No," Kesia answered quickly, "But I'll try again,"

"Don't ever stop," he advised, "I dunno how long we'll last."

"Try."

It was dark and humid; the air around them smelled like decaying flesh – of death and torture. The stone walls were wet with slime, the wooden floor was dank with mold. It had lost much of its luster, like the rest of their surroundings. It looked like it had been lavish once, but had fallen into disrepair. Zandra and Neo led the way through the dark labrynth, vainly attempting to find their way out. Various torture devices littered the walls around them, and it was a bit unnerving to the rebels. They took each step with trepidation for the foes they knew they would eventually encounter.

"This isn't the way out," Neo suddenly said, stopping and cocking his head to one side. Zandra watched him intently – he could see something she obviously couldn't, and it bothered her. She _was_ the One, right? So _how could he do something that she couldn't_? Zandra didn't like inability.

"How _do_ we then?" she asked back, staring into his eyes. Neo wasn't looking at her, but she could tell he was thinking hard. 

"Find the nearest door," he said after a moment, "It won't be an easy way out, but at least it's an exit."

"The nearest door," she echoed softly, resuming their walk. Even Zandra was having trouble seeing in the darkness – she knew that Cover and Shade would be having an even tougher time. They were silent behind her, following blindly into the unknown.

The Twins were slowly making their way to the dungeon below; they knew that the rebels wouldn't find a way out, and they would take their time as long as they knew they were in control. The Merovingian would be pleased with them… perhaps they'd even get to play a little with the girl… but first they would have to be defeated. It wouldn't be an easy task, but they were always up for a challenge, were they not? 

Unfortunately the rebels were ignorant of the coming threat, and continued to wander aimlessly down the darkened pathways further into the dungeon. They couldn't hear the moans of the prisoners yet, but they soon would. And then they would turn back, only to find the way barred by the two white ones. The rebellion was failing already, and it had only been thirty-three years.

A/N – now would be a good time to look up some name meanings… but only if you're a geek like me who looks into these sort of things… just a little hint of foreshadowing, if you're willing to search it.

Hm, I think I'm just going to submit a part of my original story for my school application, not my fanfic. I don't know… but my original story is more umm… normal, I guess? I don't know. School is aggravating.

Alocin – thanks! Lol yeah… Smith is quite a funny guy… things have yet to happen to him…

Zuma – I agree about Echo, but I think Colombus could have done more… but she did take Kesia's hint pretty well.

:)

lol I'm actually just senior in high school. And I was able to write so much of protector because during the summer I wrote like 5 hours a day. That's basically all I did, except for work. I know, I know, I'm trying to update. My weekends are full of antisocialness. And you bring up a point that's been milling about my brain for a while now – music and the matrix! I always thought that Zandra would miss music, but I wasn't sure what exactly. But I see Kemp liking like 3LW or whatever their name was. And Aguilera is a good match, too.

Aqua Phoenix – yea, that arc is a little gross if you imagine it like I did… and don't worry, I wont. :)


	28. Change of Plans

Protector of Men Ch 65

"Find a door," he said after a few moments, "Any door."

It was quiet again for the next few minutes while they searched in the dark for a portal.

"Here," Cover said, his voice sounding a bit muffled as it came from a side hallway. Silently everyone came to him, and they all stepped aside so Neo would be in front. Zandra watched in anxiety as he stood there, and was about to ask him what he planned to do when he hit the door with his palm – the shattered wood chips instantly flying away into the air around them. The door no longer lay on its hinges. Everyone was a little startled; not only because of Neo's ability, but because of the scene in front of them: _mountains._

Zandra's phone rang from the folds of her coat: Neo turned around expectantly. Shade held the door open with his foot and was looking a little bewildered. Zandra opened her phone automatically, her eyes still trained on Neo.

"Zandra, get out!" Came Kesia's breathless shout. Zandra instantly snapped to attention – something was very wrong. Cover gave her a look of questioning, but she did not explain. Not yet.

"What's wrong?"

"Get _out_!" she repeated, "The _sentinels_ are here!"

"Where's our exit," Zandra asked monotone; this was no time for more hysteria, _if in fact Kesia was right…_

"It's 500 miles south," she answered slowly… little by little coming to the realization that...

"We can't get there."

"No, not now," Neo had answered. Zandra was impervious to the fact that Neo could see her conversation in the code surrounding them all, and without even thinking relayed the fact back to Kesia. 

"How do we get out then?" Zandra finally asked the quiet line. Kesia sighed hurriedly.

"The Oracle-"

"The Oracle?" Zandra repeated.

Cover's ears perked up at the sound. 

"Gray door," Kesia continued, "It looks like the only option for now."

"The _Oracle_, Kesia."

"Zandra," Neo warned, "She won't _kill_ us."

Zandra clenched her teeth. _He doesn't know, he doesn't know…_

"A Gray door."

"Don't know where,"

"We'll find it," Came Neo's answer, finally surprising Zandra with his eavesdropping skill. Zandra suddenly heard yelling in the background and the line went dead. She looked around frenzied for a moment – expecting death. But it would not come.

At least not now.

"A gray door," she sighed after a moment, looking down on the ground. A wild goose chase from the prophetic snake. And too little time. 

"Zandra," Cover said, stepping close to her, "It's the only option,"

"We can get out _here_ if we _have_ to!"

Neo's brows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side, examining Zandra.

"Not _everyone_ can do that," he advised, still looking only at Zandra. Shade's cheeks grew hot – _did he just insult them?_ His jaw clenched unconsciously, his hands writhed together. _Not everyone_?

"We _can't stay_ out here," Cover finally voiced, a little unsure of his own words. Neo nodded, and the battle was over.

"But we'll have to be ready."

"Kemp!" Trim shouted over the din of the battle, "Help Alias at the other end!"

He could hear Alias faintly in the background of his headphones – he could tell she was trying, but he could also tell that this was not the time to make mistakes. Two sentinels were down, but there were still five to go. This was their trial; this was the test of Purgatory. The decision to live or die would be made soon, willing or no.

The guns fired explosively every second – each round finding its way into either the pipeways around them or the squids attacking. Already they were making progress, but there were still foes awaiting their doom. It was quick business too; if the sentinel got too close to the ship, their guns wouldn't be able to reach them. And then they'd be reduced to using the portable EMP gun – deadly if not aimed correctly. And Kemp had never been trained with it… _things are not looking good!_

"Kemp, are you there?" He shouted into his microphone, frustrated. He hadn't taken his eyes off the coming army yet – and suddenly was very thankful that Cover had always kept them stocked with ammunition… even though before it had seemed so _pointless…_

"I'm _here_," Kemp suddenly said.

"Got one!" He could hear from Alias in the background. A third squid erupted into flames, and soon a fourth crashed into the ground in a ball of blue fire. Only three to go.

They were back in the darkness; none of them knew the danger they had put themselves in by going back into the Chateau. If only Shade had moved his foot a little, perhaps they could have saved themselves much of the trouble they would soon be in. The urgency was soon building. Each knew that they had only minutes – perhaps even seconds to live. Even Neo was bound to the cause – without Purgatory, he'd never be able to escape from the Merovingian. Time was of the essence.

They were all walking quickly the way they had come, taking little heed of the weapons and torture devices that littered the walls around them. Had they known what lay beyond the next turn, they would have stocked up. Zandra was leading the way again for them. Neo was close behind and Zandra's two crewmates held up the back. Nerves grew as they wandered further into the abyss – time was diminishing with each second. Zandra turned left, and they followed.

"You don't think he'd let you _leave_," Said a voice from the shadows. Zandra spun around to find figures closing in. 

"After a performance like _that_," The other twin finished. Zandra found herself outnumbered; her support had suddenly disappeared for the moment.

"Help!" she shouted as the twins flew at her. Her call went unanswered, and she was left to the exhausting talk of attempting combat with the two creatures. Two was much harder than one, and despite her ability, she soon found herself behind held with her arms behind her back. Things were very quiet. 

"Finished so _soon_?" asked the one holding her, his face again dangerously close to her own. Zandra was revolted, but could do nothing.

"_Here_ they _come_," he continued sweetly, watching the darkness. Zandra watched too, and in moments her following appeared. Instantly they were alarmed.

"_Drop_ your weapons," the other twin breathed, his face devoid of all expression. Zandra squirmed under the twin's firm grip, and he only held her closer.

"Let her go, exile," Neo answered, still holding his sword. The twin smirked. 

"We are no more exiles than _you_," he answered colly. Neo paused a moment – it was true. Neo was as much of an exile as the Twins. _Nothing more_. Everyone was silent for a moment; the twins basked in their glory. Not only had they captured the One, but they had stumped the previous One. _Oh, the Merovingian would be happy indeed…_

Shade couldn't just let her stay in the twins' hands. His passion for Zandra was finally beginning to take over. He was beginning to accept his part in the web of the battle. He looked from Neo to Cover – they weren't doing _anything_. _It's up to you then_, he decided in a split second, and turned tail. He ran off back into the darkness to find a weapon. He had dropped his knives once the twins had appeared. _He'd show Neo who was 'capable'…_

His mind raced as he ran through the darkness. _Not so far…_ he stopped in front of a pair of shackles hanging on the wall – no doubt to keep a prisoner from escaping. But something made a noise that distracted him, and he looked down the hallway to his left to see what it was.

_No time!_

The Merovingian's lackeys had finally caught up, and now they were wielding guns as well as some very ominous looking weaponry. They hadn't seen Shade yet in the second that he had recognized them – _get back! Warn them!_

His haste had incited something in him that had never come out before; perhaps it was his strong bond to Zandra, who was now in peril, or perhaps it was the perpetual feeling that he was living his last moments, but he had finally let go. He grabbed the two chains attached to the wall and flung them off with a pull, the large metal links snapping under his strength. But the men had seen him, and were aiming their weapons.

_No time!_ He screamed at himself, launching back behind a wall as the bullets ripped through the air around him. Chains dangled against his legs, the cuffs clanging together in the otherwise explosive air. He waited only a moment before retreating back to where Zandra should have been, but the corridor was empty. He could hear scuffling, but didn't know where it was from. He looked around him desperately – where was she? Where had they gone to? His chains swung in pointless parabolas about him, he was quickly losing hope. This battle was so convoluted, so _confusing_… so drawn out that he was almost out of energy to even fight. 

But time was of the essence. He could worry about other things later. _Remember_, he told himself, _every minute counts_. Their ship could be in shambles in the desert of the real… they'd never know…

He started to run again in the direction he fancied the sounds came from. And then the bullets from the other hallway suddenly stopped. Everything was very quiet again.

A/N – OMG Protector of Men has over 150 reviews overall. *head explodes* Thank you so much everyone! You all know I looove reviews and suggestions and criticism (as long as it's nice, even though that one flame was really funny… lol) I'll warn you now, theory is coming. 

Wow, writing this gets harder and harder. The part I'm writing now has 45 bad guys, and I have to color code my fight paper so I know what's going on. This is confusing as calculus.

DarkStorm3 - :) I'm so glad you like my story! Geez, I bet reading it all was a bit tedious… but thank you so much! 

AquaPhoenix1 – Yeah, the dungeon is pretty icky. But not that they were supposed to be paying much attention to the decorations…

MicroChips – really! I know it's suspenseful… but things will be… 'rectified' soon.


	29. The Dam Breaks

Protector of Men Ch 66

Kesia was having a hard time staying in her chair. So much was going on outside – and so little within – that she felt useless in the fight. She couldn't even do her own job; still she could only see fragments of them every now and then. _Thank god they had opened a door!_ Though it was a little quieter, the danger was still eminent. Something weird was going on… something that had never happened before.

"Trim," she asked into her headset, "Is that last one still gone?"

He took a few seconds to respond; she could hear him giving orders to Kemp in the background.

"Yes," he finally responded, "Still gone."

Only minutes before Trim had exterminated the fourth sentinel, Purgatory breathed a sigh of relief as they went after the fifth and final squid. The threat would soon be a memory, and perhaps Purgatory would live after all. But something had happened. Something strange.

The last sentinel scanned its dead comrades on the ground, completely ignoring Purgatory and their volleys of fire. Bullets crashed into its metal hull, but not enough yet to bring it down. And instead of attacking, the sentinel scurried off, sending pulses of electricity as it went.

"It's crying," Alias had said, and it was an unusual observation indeed. Sentinels couldn't _cry_. They were machines, they were designed to _kill_. But it was eerie. Everything had become very quiet since then; they hoped that Stotte would carry through with their promise. Perhaps with a well-placed EMP… _too risky_. And Stotte hadn't even contacted them yet. So Trim was left waiting in the cockpit, his eyes beginning to burn from watching for so long. It had been a long day, but only four hours had passed. Four hours had ended up an eternity… and it wasn't over yet. 

A light began to blink on a screen below him, and he almost jumped out of his chair at the sight. The sentinel was back. But it had reinforcements.

_Oh, fuck._

"Cover!" Zandra screamed as she ducked under another of the twin's blows. Just in time he sidled to the right, barely evading the other twin's swinging arm. Neo and him were sparring against one, while Zandra took the other. But Shade was nowhere to be found, and it worried her. _Where had he run to?_ Soon after he had left Zandra took the opportunity to attack, a fight had erupted again. It was tiresome, and it was almost _useless_, but it was better than their previous situation. _Where is Shade?_ She kept thinking, her thoughts not completely focused on the battle at hand. 

Somehow they had wound their way down the dank hallways into a somewhat brighter area. Above them lamps swung ominously, casting a gray glow about the halls that though it illuminated the area, made the troupe feel as if things were darker than ever. But they truly were.

Zandra didn't see the twin pull out a second blade from his pocket, her thoughts were so mixed up. She took no heed of his arm then, coming to punch her in the side… it was too fast – she didn't even recognize the puncture of flesh, the break of her skin that could be her undoing. But she finally realized something was wrong when the Twin stopped and smirked for a moment, and she felt the pain begin to grow.

"Touche," he whispered, wiping his now bloody knife onto his pallid hand. He licked her blood, and smiled again. Zandra almost doubled over; the world began to go slower as the pain intensified. She looked down, and could see wetness – the wet of blood beginning to soak her shirt. She was confused – _stabbed? But how? What?_ Neo and Cover didn't realize what was going on – the other twin had so cleverly kept them occupied while the One became injured. And that was their plan. It would all work out in the end. Things continued to move slow for Zandra, but this wasn't the right kind of slow. The world began to spin around her. _Stabbed? But… it's not real?_ She tried to cover her wound with her hand, but found it too painful. _Pain?_ That wasn't supposed to happen. The twin continued to smirk and readied his weapons for the final blow. Zandra watched as he looked to his brother, saw what she thought to be a wink between the two – probably the simultaneous recognition of her downfall… this was it. It had come to this. She could only stupidly stare at the twin as he twirled his knives one last time, of course, showing off before he would kill her…

Shade only had a few seconds left, and he arrived right in time. Swinging his chains like nunchakus he hit the twin on the side of the neck right as he began advancing on Zandra, sending him in a crumpled mess onto the ground. Zandra stood shocked in front of him; he couldn't tell whether it was because he had just saved the One, or because of the injury he had just seen. But the other twin stopped fighting to look at his broken brother, and quickly turned to Shade with rage in his eyes. But Neo had the program's arms tied behind his back before anything else could be done. He sneered, but didn't fight. 

"Zandra," Cover called as she suddenly fell to the floor. She rested her back against the wall, her hands cupped under her side as if catching her own blood as it poured out. She looked confused, and soon both Cover and Shade were at her side: Cover examining her wound, and Shade holding her head. Zandra looked to Neo for guidance. _Why?_

"Zandra," he suddenly said, letting go of the twin. The program tried to attack, but with a swift kick to the chest the twin soon joined his brother in unconsciousness. Neo came to the ground before her, his eyes searching everywhere. 

"What…" Zandra started, her voice cracking a bit, "Why…" Words were finding themselves scarce in her mind.

_She's the one!_ Neo told himself, _this shouldn't happen. She's dying_.

"Kemp!" Kesia screamed down the loading bay, "Now!" The door was wide open, but it was hard to hear anything in the din of the fight. Explosions rattled the ship; Purgatory was experiencing hell – perhaps a taste of eternity. But hopefully not yet.

"No!" Trim screamed from the cockpit, "Kemp! Get out there!"

Alias could see Kemp venturing bravely out into the pipeways with her EMP gun in hand. It was a deadly job, but no one else could do it. And she shouldered the task: her exact words had been '_Rather it'd be here than in that shithole dreamworld_,'. But things were moving too quickly… too many… _not enough time…_

"Trim how many _are_ there?" Kesia shouted into her headpiece, still sitting at her operator's chair. Though she was able to stay put, she found herself turning towards the cockpit every few seconds. She expected them to come any time.

"Trim!" she shouted again after a few moments. Another explosion rippled through the ground, Kesia could see a flash of white light coming from the open bay door. Trim grunted.

"Damnit Kesia," he said angrily, "At least _thirty_!"

She stopped breathing. _Thirty_. This was the end. Yet another explosion groaned, this time Kesia could see licks of fire approaching the door to her right. _You can only pray_, she thought, _that Stotte comes…_

But it wouldn't be so easy.

"Trim!" Kesia could hear Alias shout, "Use your ammo well!"

He took a second to answer, Kesia felt a bang on the hull of the ship and had to hold onto the screens so she wouldn't fall over. She scrunched her eyes shut. _No, no, no…_ she kept repeating… _this isn't happening…_

"Alias, we don't have time!" he replied, his voice sounding different again.

"You _have_ to!" she yelled as another bang echoed through Purgatory, "We're running out!"

"Neo, what's happening?" Shade asked, his eyes full of concern. Zandra was slipping, and they were doing nothing. Stillness pervaded the chateau walls.

"I'm looking," he responded stonily, and placed a hand on her gaping side. She looked at him blankly, a flash of realization passed over her face, but it was soon gone. She looked into oblivion again, her eyes unfocused and uneven. Shade held his hand in hers, perhaps she just needed to know someone was there…

Something was wrong with her code, something was different. And it wasn't just a stab wound. It had to be something more. He focused harder on the code, using his intuition to see what the error was. Zandra put her hand down on her lap and closed her eyes, everyone became more tense.

"I can try," he repeated, remeniscent of a time so long ago… but _no_. He had _never _saved anyone's life. He had only terminated. _You can change that,_ he told himself, willing himself to work harder. His jaw clenched and he focused more. Cover and Shade watched in silence as the air around them buzzed with energy.

Zandra realized that she had something in her pocket – _what is it, I wonder_? She faintly felt its outline on her leg… _what could it be…_

She wasn't aware that she was slowly coming back, slowly gaining more consciousness again. But soon enough she made a small movement and reached into her pocket, loosely holding what she had found. But the job wasn't over yet – Neo still sat with his eyes closed, his hand against her side. Something was still wrong.

Time was still of the essence.

A/N – BLAH! Fight scene is hard. This is the worst writers block I've have in a long time. But after this, I think things will be easier. Do you want me to continue with Ravaged? With revolutions coming and everything, I don't want the whole storyline to be on the wrong track and have everyone abandon it.

Just wrote a really sad part that I didn't expect. And once I knew it was coming, I didn't expect it to be as sad as it was. :(

Aqua_Phoenix1 – haha! You'll never know. Jk. I think Shade is a mixture. He's not your stock 'trinity', but he is a pillar of support, I think. I think everyone's more dependent of each other than they think/want to admit.

Zuma – tell your parents there's bad stuff in every form of entertainment! Bad movies, bad books, everything. Just because it's there doesn't mean you'll be tempted to read it, and just because you find something distasteful doesn't mean it affects you. I hope you get to stay on!

Microchips – good! Heh…


	30. Strange

Protector of Men Ch 67

"There's no time," Neo told Zandra, holding her head in his large hands. She looked at him detachedly, but understood his words. The footsteps were growing closer and louder. Shade took her hand tighter in his as he drew himself upwards, and she followed suit a few seconds later. He squeezed her hand. 

"Zandra," he asked, she nodded. "You're _okay_."

The words hit home – she was okay. She was fine? No, not _fine_. But it reminded her of what she had told Stephen so long ago, and she steeled herself for the coming fight. She didn't feel well, still clutched the item in her hand. Soon Cover was ushering her behind Neo down another hallway, but they stopped. The footsteps were still coming, now they could hear bits of French floating down the dank airwaves of the dungeon.

"The key?" Neo asked Zandra, his outstretched hand reaching for her. 

"You have it," she responded, her speech beginning to come back. She felt better, but something was still wrong…

Neo nodded quickly and fumbled in his own coat for a moment before procuring the talisman. He then unlocked the door in front of them and ushered the group in before closing and locking the portal once more. He sighed before putting the key back in his pocket, and they all had another moment to relax.

Zandra looked at the object in her hand.

_Candy_.

The candy that the oracle had given her. She looked at it for a moment in the silence, admiring its inactivity, its… sedentary nature in a place where it seemed like _everyone_ was trying to kill them. She looked at it some more. It just looked back at her emotionless, she was jealous of its carelessness in the world. What did it to but sit around? Stupid oracle – she was probably trying to make her nostalgic; Probably to make her go _insane_ or something. Zandra almost laughed at the thought. _After all I've gone through_, she mused, _I don't think I'll ever be sane in the first place_. She unwrapped the candy tentatively, enjoying the sound of its crinkle in the empty room. 

She looked around for a moment to take in her surroundings, and was surprised. They were in a ballroom – near the center of a great hall. against the walls sat ornate chairs, great Greek pillars stood at each door (of which there were two on the walls to her right and left; three in front and behind), and high platforms rested at each corner of the room that went up at least thirty feet. Above them scaffolds held up the central chandelier and the adjacent tapestries that hung down. Below stood a great fountain, to its right and left were Greek statues of Ares and Hades. It was all very ornate and lavish – a welcome change from the dank hallways of the dungeon. Not thinking, Zandra popped the candy into her mouth. 

The taste exploded on her tongue, and she was suddenly reminded of fifteen years ago… playing with Barbies, the sweet smell of childish strawberry in the air… convincing Stephen that My Little Ponies really _was_ a masculine game after all… In a matter of moments she had left the present again for a time more pleasing.

"Zandra," Neo asked, suddenly thrusting her out of her world, "Do you have your sword?"

Zandra looked down; in fact, her sword was gone. "No," she responded a bit lazily, "I guess I left it…"

Neo shook his head and continued to look at her. _Something was up, but it was different now._

"I don't get it," he murmured under his breath. Suddenly they heard a pound on the door behind them, and then silence again.

"Take mine," he told her, handing over his own weapon. She nodded and took it, the candy still dissolving in her mouth.

"Do you feel allright?" he asked, his eyes prying into her code. 

"Better," she told him. It was true – with each moment she was feeling stronger. It was a momentary thing, wasn't it? _Yes. It's all in your mind. It's not real. _

She forced herself to think of Stephen. 

_It's not real._

"We have to find that door," she said. They all nodded and looked around.

It was then that the doors all burst open.

"Kemp!" Trim screamed! "_Kemp_!"

It was no use. She couldn't hear him. There was only one thing to do…

Trim blasted the warning siren from the innards of the ship. It beeped loudly three times – and just about caused all of Purgatory to have a heart attack. Back in the matrix Zandra felt a ripple of something pass through her, and was momentarily confused. But it passed.

Kemp turned around to face the ship and was instantly aware of the new threat.

"Do it!" Trim shouted, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to hear him. Just as he had hoped, she aimed the EMP gun and shot at the sentinel that had just landed on Purgatory, and it collapsed onto the hull with a crash. Kemp could see the ship bounce slightly from the hit. But there were more. _Many more_. Kemp was struggling under the weight of the gun; with her small body, with each passing second, she was finding it harder to hold it upright. _Just a little longer_, she urged herself_, you're fighting for all of them!_

The sentinels were buzzing about in what looked like random paths in the pipeways ahead of them. They knew that Purgatory had weapons, and had reconfigured their attack pattern to be more erratic so that they would have less of a chance of being hit. The less predictable they were, the harder it would be to shoot them. Kemp stood like an ant witnessing a swarm of bees on the attack – they flew in figure eights in front of her, all the time getting closer and closer to their home; their _haven_.

Kemp knew that her job was to stop them.

Another shot landed into the metal close to her; she screamed once and moved closer to the ship. Some of the sentinels had started to fire their own weapons – something Zion hadn't heard of before. 

As of late, it seemed like Purgatory was the testing ground of the world. Everything new was found by them. Zandra… Neo… the new agents… Smith… the Oracle… the Merovingian… and now the new sentinelian attacks. It was all a bad sign. But Kemp hadn't regretted any of it. _Anything_ to be out of the matrix. If she died, she died. It would be for a purpose.

She turned to Purgatory and aimed her EMP at another sentinel that had found its way to the ship's hull. She aimed her weapon and fired… but missed.

With a blast of light the sentinel began to break open the ship's hull. She could imagine everyone screaming inside – _fire again!_

This time she was dead on. The sentinel banged against the ship with a clang and fell to the ground in a heap, deactivated. _That was too close._

Zandra looked at the weapon in her hands before finding a place to hide herself. _Neo'_s sword… not _hers_… her mind was still moving rather slowly.

In fact, everything seemed to be moving rather slowly. The men were still bounding into the hall with their guns drawn, the Purgatory troupe was just beginning to react, beginning to guard themselves against the coming flood. Zandra pondered her situation: _fight? Or hide?_ There were too many men to take… perhaps she'd sit this one out… Neo could probably do everything…

The others were getting into action, running to the center of the ballroom to assess their enemies. Shade was a bit worried – it looked like a lot. They all ran into the room and paused for a moment, looking at each other. _What are they doing?_

_And where was Zandra_? Shade looked about the room, worried. But he soon found her – shrunken against the wall on top of a support at least twenty feet above the ground. What was _she_ doing? It seemed that Neo read his mind, for he too looked up to where Zandra stood. They were both speechless for a while during the silence. 

And Zandra continued to watch from a distance. She still felt detached, as if she were watching in on the battle from somewhere else. 

What am _I _doing?

A small part of her wanted to come back, but got lost again in the sea of randomness. Her muscles began to tense with her inner struggle; her jaw clenched in frustration. Her candy crunched in her mouth and she swallowed it. Soon the memory of strawberry was gone. _Come back…_

The doors opened again; everyone was anxious to see who was behind it. 

Neo recoiled and jumped to the ceiling, now balancing precariously on a beam of the ceiling. Shade and Cover stood cemented to the ground. It was Smith.

Smith_s_.

_Thirteen of them._

The battle now commenced.

A/N – any constructive criticism? Ideas on how I can improve this? This action scene is very hard, and I just don't know how to make it flow better. Help!


	31. Uber Brawl

Protector of Men Ch 68

"Zandra!" Neo shouted from the banister above, "Zandra!"

She wasn't responding again. Something was wrong – what was it? Below them everything was erupting into chaos. Two lackeys for every Smith – but it wouldn't be that way for long. Neo looked into her code, inspected every fiber of her existence…

There _was_ something going on. Her code was changing. Something had happened to her – perhaps her energy was being sapped by the change being undergone. He marveled at the code: as it flowed down her body, the characters changed rapidly, they even stopped for moments before rushing down her length again. _Did the knife poison her?_ He wouldn't put it past those twins…

Below Shade was assessing his situation. His back was against a fountain in the center of the room, and to his right were five of the Merovingian's men. Only one of them held a revolver, but the others had various weapons that looked rather ominous. To his left was Smith, and further away three more Smiths stood enveloped in a fight with three more lackeys. Shade's adrenaline pumped – if he was going to survive, he'd have to be fast. _One to six - hardly good odds. _

Cover was somewhat luckier. The nine henchmen that had advanced on him were now being attacked by Smith. _Smiths_. And that left him quite _unoccupied_ – at least for the moment. He turned to Shade, and inched closer. _Perhaps two against six would work…_

Time was of the essence, and Zandra was wasting what precious seconds she possessed. "Zandra!" Neo shouted again, quickly losing hope of gaining her attention. Something more would have to be done. 

Neo jumped off of the high banister and landed on the platform Zandra was standing on. She looked a little surprised as he landed, but it quickly glazed over into pacifism again. 

"Zandra," He said, shaking her shoulders, "Come _back_."

Something flashed in her eyes, but again it faded. Time was similarly fading; a Smith jumped onto the banister that Neo had previously occupied only seconds before, his jacket flapping as he soared through the air with a guise of rage. They would get their target if he didn't move. _No time!,_ he yelled at himself, searching for the answer. The Smith sailed into the air, heading towards the two. Neo had finally run out of time after thirty-four years of waiting.

"Zandra," he warned, stepping to the side. The Smith was still coming, there was only one thing he could do. Hopefully, it would bring her back into the present. He thrust his hand into her – he stopped her code momentarily, hoping that in doing so the change might stop. Zandra's eyes were wide, she choked for a moment. But only a moment. 

Neo pulled back his hand and in one quick movement, kicked her off of the platform and to the side. Smith landed.

Zandra bashed into a pillar and slid to the ground in a heap. She was instantly enraged – _why had Neo done that to her?_

But at least she was back. And she watched the Smith attack Neo with dismay – wasn't she there to save _him_? He had just saved _her_… Zandra grew embarrassed quickly. She looked to Shade and Cover – they weren't doing well. _No time_! She raged, she had to get them out quickly! _Every second is a second wasted…_

Alias focused as much as she could on the flood that threatened to kill them. The sentinels were intelligent, she had to give them that, and it was hard going. They kept eluding their fire, kept moving so that shooting one was nearly impossible. Alias was tired, but she wouldn't give up now. It was her chance to save the day. To redeem herself.

"Left!" she shouted to Trim. He moved his aim accordingly, but too slowly. The sentinel got away quickly. They felt another pound on their hull and cringed. Would Kemp get _this_ one?

Kesia was still huddled in her operator's chair literally shaking with fear. She kept hearing the loud clunk of the sentinels preparing to gut their protective covering… kept imagining them coming in, _destroying_ them without a _thought…_

She lost count at seven. A few minutes ago, one had started to break open the hull – Kesia flew to the edge of the room in terror, but it soon fell dead above her and was gone. When she was brave enough to venture back to take a look at the damage, she was surprised to see an open dent two floors above, a small slit open to the pipeways around them. She went quickly back into her chair and rocked backwards and forwards… _please hurry_… forwards and backwards…

Something started beeping on Trim's panel, but he ignored it. He was much too busy securing their lives to worry about another sentinel – or _whatever_ it was. But the beeping grew louder. Over in the main deck Kesia's screen buzzed to life; she jumped back at the abrupt sound.

It was Stotte.

"They've come!" She yelled into her headset; no-one answered. She linked the communications and saw Aegir, the legendary captain on the screen. If it were possible, she would be more nervous. But instead she greeted him quickly.

"We're 30,000 away," he told her instantly, "We've got our crew manning the battalions."

Kesia's heart leapt. _30,000? And another crew?_ Perhaps they weren't doomed after all…

"How much time until you're here?" she asked.

"Only a few minutes," he answered, "We'll get ready for an EMP on your call."

Our call? Stotte's taking orders from us? Kesia was blown away by his… courtesy? But now was not the time to ponder the intricacies of mannerisms. She had to tell Trim.

She got off the communications line quickly and jammed her microphone to her face, hoping that it would amplify her voice.

"Trim!" she shouted again, "Stotte's here!"

Again, no response. She waited a few moments, still vainly hoping he would respond… but no. She'd have to tell him herself. She stared at the screen, reluctant to leave for a second – _what if I miss them?_ She looked closer, but still could not see any of their code. So they were still in there. Still unreachable. _Maybe just for one minute…_

Trim was startled when Kesia bound into the room, but he didn't take his eyes off the coming sentinels. One came dangerously close to the ship – Purgatory rocked in protest from the intense buffeting by air - but it crashed into the ground at the last second. The ground too shook in protest against the new inhabitant, but it was another threat neutralized. Kesia got down to business.

"Stotte's here," she told him. Trim still did not look at her.

"He says use the EMP when we're ready."

Trim gave a slight nod: that was all Kesia needed to see before she ran back to her operating chair. _Only a little while longer._

Things were different now. There was no conscious decision, no realization this time that would free her from the binding chain, the web of lies that always threatened to take over again. Now it came naturally; she didn't even have to think anymore. Not that she was _thinking_ – it was all reactions now. The twins would have been angry that their plan had not worked: the knife that had stabbed her was supposed to stop her code; to essentially make her useless, but obviously something had gone wrong. They wouldn't make their debut again – the agents had made their presence known, and they had no intentions of being deleted that day. Zandra would just have to fend for herself without their 'help'.

She got up from the ground slowly, assessing everyone's situation. She looked up to where she had fallen – no, been ousted from: Neo was currently being occupied by Smith. But it was only one, and he was capable. 

Zandra then looked to Cover and Shade again, but now they were nowhere to be found. Instead she saw pockets of people – of _programs_ – fighting an invisible foe. There was a large circle of brawling directly in front of her – Cover and Shade would be in there.

She picked up Neo's sword which still lay next to her and set out. She had a feeling that they didn't have much time left. Every second would have to count.

They didn't turn as she approached. It was easy to start, she figured, but how hard would it be to continue? Only microseconds had passed since she had started her round, and she was already about to make her first kill.

She came up to one of the Merovingian's lackeys on the outside of the circle. _Too many_, she thought instantly, there must have been at least _eleven_ rogues attacking her crew. _But all would be rectified soon_. With a quick thrust of Neo's sword she came down on the enemy, slicing open a wound from his neck all the way down his back. Blood spattered onto the ground and he fell, another sword at his bloody side. But before anyone could register her kill, she had picked up the dead program's sword and moved onto the next. This one she killed with a thrust through the side, and another to the neck. He doubled over, his eyes filling with blood. The ground was quickly changing colors: from a deep cherry wood to the dark red of blood. They would have slipped if more time had passed, but it had been only moments. _Nine to go._

Only now did they begin to realize their fate. 

A/N – thanks for your comments guys, you were right. It is a little monotonous; this'll be the first thing I revise once I'm finished with Rectitude. I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long – there have been multiple fiascos, spanning multiple genres of life. Believe me, it's been an absolutely f***ed up week. And I mean that.

Aqua_Phoenix1 – thanks for your support! I'm already planning ravaged… though it is quite theory laden.

Alocin – sometimes a one-track mind is ok! Yeah… you might see something similar to that soon…

AoD – haha! That's ok, you're just feeling the same thing I am. I'll figure it out soon….

Zuma – By jove, I think you've got it! That sounds a bit right – it does seem to be a bit monotonous. I think I got lost in the final build up to the climax, you know? I guess I tried too hard to make this climax more than Stephen's death, which I thought was pretty powerful. It's almost over though, the monotony will end soon! Haha.


	32. Veritas

Protector of Men Ch 69

Though the odds were still against them, the machines were almost gone. Thankfully, Stotte had begun to help them, and their resistance was beginning to yield.

"No!" Kemp screamed, unleashing another blast from her miniature sceptre. Little had the Stotte realized that once they came, the machines would flee _towards_ Purgatory. In the past few minutes they had come fast and thick; Kemp barely had enough time to stop those that had latched onto Purgatory's hull. _They just keep coming_, she quietly mourned, _they never stop…_

Another sentinel clamped onto Purgatory's hull and immediately began blasting its laser, breaking through the thick layers of protection and into the rooms beneath. Kemp aimed quickly and fired, but had missed again. She was beginning to miss more often… the battle was making her weary… _keep going!_

She aimed again at the sentinel, but it had stopped attempting to enter Purgatory and had turned to her, its red eyes glowing with hatred. Kemp's breath stopped in her chest – _was it looking at her?_ Everything else in the pipeways suddenly faded to black – it was just she and the sentinel in the universe, it's _red eyes_…. _Staring_…

It got off of the ship and advanced in her direction. Kemp was paralyzed – it was coming towards her, arms outstretched like an angry Medusa… _shoot?_

"Shoot!" She yelled at herself, but found it hard to move. She fumbled with the controls as the sentinel wavered closer on its winding path to her doom. Once she had finally aimed her weapon at the coming machine, it would be too late. The sentinel fired at her small body, the shots echoing ominously across the metal walls of the pipeways. For Kemp, everything was quiet. The world became dark, and she was finished. 

Trim had to watch it from the cockpit. He couldn't stop himself from crying out loud when it happened, when the sentinel had destroyed her… Kemp fell to he ground in a heap, her EMP gun on top of her. Trim knew she was gone. 

He could faintly hear Kesia talking in the background, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't take his eyes off of Kemp's unmoving body, now so graceful in the chaos of war. All she wanted was the _truth_. _She just wanted something real_, he mourned, _is that so much_? The sentinel hovered by her for a moment, gloating over its victory. But Kemp would not go unavenged.

Trim volleyed another round of ammunition into the already explosive air.

"Bastards," he was able to choke, "_Bastards_…"

But the sentinel was too quick, and it escaped back into the mass of machinery in the pipeways around them. Stotte wouldn't be far off now, but it was too late. Kemp had already lost, and now it would be only a little while before the rest of Purgatory lost as well.

The true fight had finally started. Zandra was a killing machine – already eight of the Merovingian's lackeys had been terminated. But there were always more. And now the Smiths seemed so much more prevalent in the room around them – Zandra had not yet realized that the reason they seemed more prevalent was because they were just that: _more_. They didn't see the strange chain of battles that was going on in the room where one Smith would go in, and two would come out. 

Zandra looked up from the ground and saw Neo flying through the air towards the large chandelier in the center of the room. Soon two Smiths were in the air behind him, and Neo was clinging to the chandelier precariously, looking behind him to see if they would follow. 

_Someone behind you._

Zandra instantly turned around, swinging her swords as she went. The program doubled over, blood erupting onto his hands. Zandra turned back to the scene in front of her. _Too much of Smith._

She didn't realize that it had all been a part of Smith's plan. He would first eradicate all of their resistance so that they wouldn't get too worn down. And then he would win: he would defeat Neo all by himself. _No help._

_Door._

Zandra turned to the right – a door was opening, and that never meant something good. She held her breath as it opened, it took f_oreve_r, and watched as the program entered. He sneered, and pulled out his gun.

His Desert Eagle.

And then three other doors opened; Zandra registered each addition with growing anticipation. She knew that she could handle the agents if she had to, but could Cover? Could Shade? Time was wearing thin. _Where was this supposed _talisman_ of a door?_

Instantly the agents went for Smith, and pockets of intense confrontations developed at the corners of the ballroom. Zandra had a moment to think as she terminated another lackey. She looked over to Shade. He was running at another, and after a moment there were only ten left for them to get rid of. Bullets seared through the air. He seemed to read her mind, and was soon at her side. His chains clanged against his legs, his breathing was labored. But he was okay. Now to find Cover.

But Smith got in the way of her plans. Neo had suddenly dropped from the sky weaponless, and looked to Zandra. In the split second they had, she threw one of the swords she carried to him, he caught it and was instantly engaged by a Smith. Another Smith dropped in front of Zandra; his time had come. Shade had momentarily retreated to the side, was attempting to find Cover. Now was the moment of truth.

Zandra was pulling her sword to eye level when he thrust his hand into her body. But she had seen this all before – only minutes ago Neo _himself _had done the same thing. Only when the oil began spreading across her body did she worry. _This hadn't happened when Neo did it_… what was he trying to do?

The oil was spreading further across her body, beginning to take over her arms – _stop this!_ A part of her said_, this isn't the same!_

An overwhelming feeling of haste made her snap to attention again. Realizing her problem, she tried to stop the flow – _only how?_ But the Smith only sneered and held his grip further. The oil began going down her arms, only a little to go…

_No_!, she told herself, _he's not doing this!_ Zandra focused on the feeling she had gotten – however brief – when Neo had stopped before. _Focus!_

Suddenly the Smith paused, a look of surprise on his face. He pulled his hand out of Zandra and to his own side, where a trickle of blood now spilled. There was no culprit; the agent who had done the act was now in the fray yet again. The Smith terminated in a flash of painful light, and Zandra had won. She was back, and the Smith had momentarily disappeared. But where were Cover, Shade, and Neo? Again Zandra felt the warning of haste wash over her. _Time is of the essence_, she reminded herself. Quickly the phrase was becoming hackneyed in her small world.

They had to get out, and the fight could not be won. 

Zandra jumped over the group of battlements in front of her and landed at the wide door at the far end of the room. She looked to her comrades who were now engulfed by the battle. It looked like there were about ten Smiths left – and only four agents. _Four?_

Zandra paused for a moment, but soon abandoned her thinking. Neo was skidding across the side of the wall, fifteen feet above the air. There must have been at least six Smiths against him. Cover was matched against three of the remaining lackeys, and Shade was pitted against another lackey, who was also being occupied by a malevolent Smith. Neo came first.

She ran towards the wall Neo skid by, picking up an unused pistol as she went. Jumping up the platform to her left, she started to unload her clip against the Smiths, hoping that perhaps they would go for her instead. It worked, but not the way she had anticipated.

The Smiths paused, allowing Neo to momentarily get a lead. They changed direction and headed towards Zandra, but there were more. Not ony had she gotten the attention of the Smiths following Neo, but the Smiths attacking the agents. Everyone had her attention. Zandra held her sword and pistol high as they approached slowly, their faces full of anger. This would be the crunch time.

This time Smith was truly angry. This… _Zandra_… (he was beginning to despise her name almost as much as Mr. Anderson's,) girl was ruining his plans, and now she'd have to be eradicated. She had brought it upon herself. Seven Smiths landed on the platform that she stood on.

But Zandra was waiting; she knew that she'd have to fight more of them at once. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Neo land on the ground and run to Shade. They'd be fine for now. _Watch out!_

At that moment Zandra blocked a blow from one of the Smiths with her sword – but to her dismay, it did not injure him. He merely attacked again as if she had beaten him with only a club. Instinctively Zandra fired her pistol into the mass of enemies, but they all dodged her missiles easily. At least it had bought her some time. Soon she was blocking more blows, and with each passing second they grew thicker and faster. She was quickly overcome with a feeling of haste again – this fight was getting nowhere, and time was always running out…

A blow to the side brought her back again. _Anticipate!_ She told herself, quickly getting back to the flow. The Smiths were perplexed – she hadn't been as… _affected _by his attacks as the others had. They bared their teeth in aggression as she continued to fight.

More Smiths landed on the crowded platform, and it was getting hard for Zandra to move. Another blow hit her in the legs, and for a moment, she thought she was going to fall over. But she didn't – and made a quick decision that would save all of their lives.

Zandra leapt up to the ceiling and landed on a high beam, yards above the Smiths. Instantly she broke into a run and leapt back down to one of the tapestries near Neo and Cover. It took the Smiths an extra second to register what she had done.

"Neo!" she screamed above the din of guns and weaponry, "Get _out!_"

He understood immediately – the only thing that made him linger was seeing her perched precariously on a tapestry above them. She didn't seem fazed. Neo pulled out his key and was soon at a door, but the fight was not over yet. The Smiths wouldn't give up that easily.

In Zandra's moment of speaking, she didn't realize that the Smiths were in the process of following her. Before she knew what was happening, she was soaring again towards the ground, two Smiths already on her back. Bullets seared through the air as the new agents attempted to terminate the rogue. Zandra rolled to the ground in a heap, with Smith following.

__

Anticipate!

She got up from her roll and ran a few paces ahead, her sword still in hand. Already the Smiths were on her tail, already they were grabbing at her, trying to make her slip up -–a fatal mistake that would cost her Zion, perhaps?

But she had had enough. There was no more time. Zandra gripped her sword tighter than ever and waited until the programs got close enough to think that they had won. Only a little longer… three feet away… a little longer… a few started to reach out for her face… _Now!_

She held her sword with both hands, abandoning her pistol. Swinging it from right to left in a wide circle, she let out a scream that would have frightened the stoutest of hearts. Even Neo was disconcerted. The Smiths were only able to show their surprise in their momentary expressions before Zandra had sliced them through, leaving a blinding white mess on the floor. She paused for a second, trying to recoup the energy she had just lost. But there were more. _Always more._

"Zandra!" Neo called from the door, alarmed. Zandra looked to him as more Smiths approached. The gunfire was slowing – there was only one agent left in the fray. Zandra took his cue, knowing her danger, and dropped her sword. She leapt up into the air, avoiding Smith, and landed next to Neo. He pushed her into the door, and a moment later, they were in another room. Shade and Cover looked at her unsure, as if she had become a different person. She almost had.

And ahead of them was a gray door.

A/N – I like this chapter. Even though I was a little sad to get rid of Kemp – I was beginning to really like her. 

****

I have 100 reviews!?! *Head explodes, then my hands fall off so I can't write anymore.*

Just kidding. But that really does amaze me. Heck, I've got an 85 in AP english! I don't deserve this many reviews. Um, end to monotony coming soon. And yay for powerful chapters! Hopefully, in the future, I'll be able to write a chapter that really gets people's hearts pumping. You know? I've only read a few stories that do that to me. So yeah, that's my goal.


	33. Utter Realizations

Protector of Men Ch 70

Purgatory was about to fall apart. Stotte had come – Trim could see the outline of their ship through the darkness, but it was probably too late now. There were already sentinels on the hull again, and without _Kemp_ – Trim stifled a cry, - they had no way to combat them. He could hear the searing of metal above them, knew that they'd be in within a minute or so. So this was it. All of their work, and they were going to die like _this_. So close to freedom.

"Trim!" Kesia screamed, bounding into the cockpit, "Trim!"

Tears streamed down his sodden cheeks; he tried to concentrate on the sentinels. There were so many now that it seemed like his ammunition didn't matter. Yet, though he felt that he was useless, he didn't give up.

"Trim!" she shouted again, only inches from his face. She poked his shoulder tentatively, and only then did he respond. He stopped shooting for a moment, perhaps dazed by the human interaction. Kesia saw his soaked face and guessed the worst; she was right.

She couldn't bear to look at her poor trodden body out in the pipeways, and instead quietly trudged back to her seat. _Kemp, gone?_ The bay door was still open. _What if she came back in_, Kesia pondered, _then we'd all be alright…_

But no - they weren't alright. A flash of white light disrupted her momentary journey, and a bang soon followed. Kesia could see fire outside the door of the ship.

It was unbearable to sit in her chair, but something had appeared that lightened her spirits. In fact, she was ecstatic. She called for Alias to come.

"They're almost _out_!"

The room was bright, but dully so. The walls that now surrounded them seemed to absorb much of the luster emitted by the cheap bulbs above them and cast an eerie shadow below the troupe. The air seemed stagnant; each of them hesitated to breathe as if the air around them might be poisonous. They all realized the danger they were still in – though the surroundings were less obviously placid, there was a new danger in its unsettling calm. The small man stood in front of them, his face blank with masked calm. Nerves rocketed silently about the room.

"Can you get us out?" Zandra asked, breaking the tense silence. The small man nodded, but did not move. Zandra felt another ripple of something pass through her, and the urgency was again renewed. She shook her head in frustration.

"There's no _time_," she said, her brows furrowed. The man did not react.

"Seraph," Neo asked, "_Please_."

"The Oracle must secure a passage," he informed them, "And you," he nodded towards Neo, "Must have a place to hide."

Zandra was quiet; it was true. Neo would need a place to hide, after all. _But no time!_

As if reading her mind, the man pulled out a key from his sleeve and unlocked a door that Zandra hadn't noticed before. It opened with a clink, and they all walked through. A single telephone rested on a table in front of them. It was only a matter of time.

Zandra turned to Neo.

"Where will you be?" she asked, staring into his covered eyes. Shade and Cover were silent next to her. Neo looked to Seraph before answering.

"If I'm not with the Oracle," he said slowly, testing the words as they passed his lips, "She'll know where I am."

The lack of haste was disconcerting to Zandra; the lack of fighting, lack of resistance made her feel uncomfortable. Weren't they fighting for something? Wasn't this a mission? _A war?_ Everything was silent again as they all waited for the phone to ring.

"Are they coming?"

A flash, and a following bang.

"They're _waiting _for us!"

"I'm there,"

A warning signal, the sound of bullets hitting the walls.

"I'm dialing."

The high screech of the phone startled them all when it suddenly came to life. Zandra looked to Cover, who looked to Shade in turn. He nodded, and walked up to the phone. He picked it up after a moment's hesitation, and was soon gone. Zandra breathed a sigh of relief. _Almost finished._

"You go," she told Cover after a few seconds. He too nodded, and waited for the phone to ring again. It took a while, and their nerves began to grow again. But soon enough, it started its unearthly screech for another time.

It was only Zandra and Neo that were left; Seraph stood quietly in a darkened corner of the room. _Finally_, she thought, _only a few more seconds._

"Thank you," she told him, almost a whisper. _Why was she thanking him? Hadn't she just saved him from the Merovingian? Who knew._

A faint hint of a smile crept across Neo's face and he reached for his sunglasses. Zandra watched silently as he took them off, and looked Zandra over once more.

"Be careful," he told her, another whisper. "I'll be waiting."

The phone rang.

Zuma – good point – usually I do one or two run-throughs of a chapter before I post them – but the last one was rather choppy. But hey – Shakespeare made up loads of words… I'll just claim I'm taking a cue from the best. Heh… but a good point nonetheless – and I have been looking into finding a beta-reader for a while. 

Aqua_Phoenix1 – not enough of Smith? I think he'd be the first to tell you that, lol

Alocin – Smith, smith, smith! Well, I guess we all have our favorite characters. I heart Neo. He's so pretty. *alex gets all fluttery*…


	34. The End

Protector of Men Ch 71

"Alias, get her out!"

Alias responded with a nod, and was quickly at Zandra's side. Kesia scampered off to tell Trim the good news.

"Trim!" she shouted as she ran into the cockpit, "They're out! Power _down_!"

Trim didn't respond.

"Trim!" she repeated, frustrated, "They're out!"

"I don't have time," he answered, a bead of sweat falling off his nose. The sentinels were still attacking, and Stotte hadn't helped as much as they had hoped.

"We only need a minute or two," she told him, still standing in the doorway of the cockpit. 

"Not good enough," he answered through gritted teeth as he shot at another incoming sentinel. It crashed into the ground with a resounding crash, sending a ripple of vibration through the ship.

"Then _what_?" Kesia asked loudly, gripping each side of the door for support, "We need to blast it!"

There was only one thing they could do in their situation, and both Trim and Kesia came to the conclusion at the same time: _Stotte would have to do it._

"Can they?" Kesia asked,

"If they move,"

"How do we tell them?"

"This way."

And Trim blasted the ship's warning signal in Morse code for EMP. Now all they could do was pray that Stotte recognized their call.

Alias and Cover were busy attempting to close the bay doors of the ship – it seemed like the sentinels had finally found the one obvious breach in the hull, and were now aiming to destroy from the inside. Sparks fell from the ceiling as they worked against time and machine, the door closing excruciatingly slow… perhaps too slow. Trim destroyed another sentinel before it could crash into their hull. Alias could feel the rumble through her chair, but continued to work anyway. Only a few more seconds.

Stotte was busy setting down their ship to get ready for the EMP. One of their crew, Kisho, had figured out the Morse code for their ship and relayed the message to Aegir. The rest of the crew not manning the battalions were now busy shutting down everything necessary for the ship's function, and nothing else. They needed to transport – and that was all. Time would be wasted on saving anything extraneous. 

"Are we ready?" Aegir yelled through the PA into his ship. They were settled down, still vainly attempting to stop the onslaught of endless sentinels onto Purgatory, but now focusing on shutting everything down.

"Heater down,"

"Radiators down,"

"Lights down," and everything went dark.

"Fuel closed,"

"Engines?" Aegir called, almost desperate to start the EMP. He waited in silence for the call that would end everything. Another sentinel started to burn through Purgatory's thin cover.

"Engines down!" 

"_Now!"_

And it all stopped.

From Purgatory the EMP appeared as a wave of hot air swiftly approaching their broken vessel. Zandra was now standing in the cockpit next to Trim, and again she could feel the energy rush through her as the EMP passed. All the sentinels soon fell to the ground; they could hear the heavy clunks of falling sentinels on their ship. The machinery was dead, but that didn't matter now. Soon Stotte would be coming to pick them up. Soon they'd be on their way back to Zion.

"What's wrong?" Zandra asked Trim, noticing his tear-streaked and sweat-ridden face. He didn't look at her, but sighed before answering in a frail voice.

"Kemp," he managed, then looked down. Zandra narrowed her eyes; _that couldn't mean…_

"Is she ok?"

Trim could only shake his head, but Zandra understood already. She looked into the pipeways ahead, and sure enough, Kemp's small figure could be seen in the gray of the metal. She turned her head quickly; Kemp, _dead?_ She hadn't even gone on a mission. Lights flickered on, and soon Stotte was on their way. Zandra turned and left Trim, headed back to the main deck.

Kesia sat in her operator's chair, numb. She stared at the black screens, as if watching intently, as if perhaps that was the only thing she could do. Zandra tried to enter quietly, but Kesia was still startled by her presence. 

"Hey," Zandra whispered. She wanted so badly to put a caressing hand on Kesia's shoulder, but wasn't sure how. Zandra had never been much of a physical person, and gestures such as the one she wanted to show so much always scared her to death. So she merely stood behind Kesia, and began to watch the black screen along with her. They now could hear the faint humming of Stotte coming for them. 

"Hey," Kesia finally responded. Cover sat in a corner of the room, cut off from everyone else. Shade sat next to Alias. They all were looking at the floor. No one said anything for a long time. Zandra finally put a comforting hand on Kesia's shoulder – _it wasn't so hard._ But it offered no solace; it was an empty gesture. 

They all felt a slight rumble, and Stotte was down. Trim soon sulked out of the cockpit and moved to open the door -–Cover and Shade were soon at his side, pulling the bay doors wide open manually, for there was no power. 

It was only a matter of minutes before they were ushered out of Purgatory and into Stotte. Thankfully, Stotte was rather large, and though they would have to double up, everyone would fit. Especially without Kemp… Zandra was numb from the loss. _Kemp, gone?_

Zandra didn't pay attention to the formalities that Aegir attempted to put through. Half of his crew was out getting Kemp… and Zandra didn't look at anyone's eyes as they shook hands. Another failure, she figured, another loss. Zandra found her way to the mess room to sit while they waited for Aegir's crew to come back and set up again.

"Hey," said Shade, coming into the room. He sat down next to Zandra, watching her warily for any sign of recognition.

"Hey," she replied half-heartedly. Shade sighed.

"So what did that guy say after I left?"

"Neo?" she asked, almost a whisper.

"Yeah."

"To be careful," she replied. Shade detected a bit of resentment in her voice, and moved a little closer to her, his eyes continually locked onto her face.

"We did a good job back there," he asserted, still looking into her eyes. Zandra kept looking down, knowing he would be scrutinizing her.

"Not good enough," she whispered, reverting back to her old self. Kemp was dead. Just like Stephen, she had tried her best to save the day and failed."Zandra," he chided, eyes squinted in a lack of understanding, "It's _always_ good enough."

Zandra sighed, knowing well that the conversation wouldn't go the way she wanted it to. She looked to him for a moment, but quickly looked away once their eyes met. 

"We got Neo out," he added, a hand on Zandra's shoulder. She nodded back; that was at least true, no matter how much they had actually helped to get him out.

Above them the PA system crackled to life, and Aegir's voice was soon heard across Stotte.

"Just want to welcome Purgatory to Stotte," he said in a cheerful, yet reserved tone, "We'll be heading out soon for Zion."

He paused.

"Ah, room assignments – Port will give you those tonight. It'll be a tight fit, but it's only for a day or two."

Again he paused, and then got off the PA. 

Zandra had a feeling that it would turn out to be a very long day or two. She would be right.

Alocin – yes, the action is done for a while.

Aqua_Phoenix1 – yes… everyone's a bit sad now…

Zuma – Oh, no! I'd never forget the Mayflower. They'll be back soon, and you may be a little surprised as to how. I think they just needed time to heal after Echo and all. I doubt Zandra would react very well to having the Mayflower come to their rescue after that fiasco. I have two chapters written now after this one, and that might be the end of Rectitude.

Anonymous – hah thanks. But (and you can quote me here) I don't care how random someone's review is… and I appreciate everyone's reviews! It's natural to be random sometimes, and I think that's helped by the fact that some of my reviewers (you know who you are!) are loyal enough to feel comfortable talking about other stuff.

Please! I don't want a review war. Hugs for everyone?

I'm having a little bit of trouble figuring out how I want Ravaged to go… so it may take me a while to update after I finish with Rectitude. I apologize beforehand, but I truly think you'll appreciate it more if I think this through before I barge ahead.


	35. Idolatry

Protector of Men Ch 72

Meeting the rest of Stotte's crew was to Zandra, a never-ending awkward moment. She tried to smile while shaking their hands, but their grinning stares were disconcerting. So too, were the comments such as:

"So you're the One?"

"I can't believe you defeated those agents!"

"That's some crazy stuff."

And she kept smiling her fake smile the whole way through, images of Stephen and Kemp flashing through her mind every few seconds. Soon it was over though, and things quieted down. She and Cover and Shade had to share a room together; Kesia and Trim were in one, and Alias slept in a room with two other women from Stotte. Aegir had been right: it _was_ a tight fit. But he was also right in that it was only two days, though for Zandra it was excruciatingly longer. 

It was the morning of the second day; Zandra, Cover, and Shade all lay in the small room together, resisting the silent mandate to get up for the day. They all looked up at the ceiling as they talked to one another, for it was much easier to speak when there was no one to talk to.

"Why, exactly, did we go after Neo?"

"It's a long story," Zandra answered, looking more towards Shade's direction. "He's got information that can lead us to the end."

"The end?"

Zandra looked toward Cover's area, close to her own. Shade was on the floor as well as Cover; Zandra had graciously agreed to take the one lonely bed in the room.

"I think he knows how to destroy the matrix."

"The Oracle can help us with that,"

Zandra didn't say anything, and Cover sensed her reaction.

"She saved our lives, Zandra," he told her, "I think she knows more than you credit her for."

Zandra didn't respond again, and Cover dropped the subject. They were all quiet again, and pretended to sleep.

A few minutes later they heard a loud rap on the door; three times slowly.

"Come in," said Cover. They all sat up where they previously lay. Aegir's face soon appeared behind the door, a grin masked as stoicism on his rigid guise.

"Cover," he said, his grin turning pure for a moment, "A captain deserves much better lodging than this."

Cover shrugged, and adeptly avoided a glance at Zandra and Shade. "I'm fine with what I'm given," he offered. Aegir shook his head.

"No, no," he continued, "That's not necessary. I've got plenty of room in my quarters – and I'm sure Zandra and Shade wouldn't mind a little more room to move around in."

There was a slight pause, and Cover shrugged again.

"If you insist," he answered quietly.

"Come on," Aegir reiterated, gesturing for Cover to get up, "We'll move your stuff." Zandra could hear him mention something along the lines of a 'new defense mode' as he steered Cover out of the room, and couldn't help from smiling.

Zandra and Shade looked at each other; silence now pervaded the walls. Zandra broke her gaze and looked around. Stotte felt so different from Purgatory; just… _different_. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

"So," Shade sighed, looking up to the ceiling, "Back to Zion."

"Yeah," Zandra replied, an equally weary sigh. Shade rubbed his neck; the ground was cruelly hard, and becoming painful to lie on. Zandra didn't notice. Slowly she retreated back into her own mind; the real world was continually becoming more hostile.

Kemp was dead. Zandra's mind kept running through the circular pattern of realization every few minutes, a new wave of guilt washing over each time. She remembered so long ago, when Kemp had been taken out of the matrix, how Zandra had been glad to have someone aboard that had less hair than her… less experience…

She remembered her obnoxious mouth… how she spouted profanity off like it were a sentence-enhancer, not an exclamation. It was annoying then, Zandra admitted, but she viewed it now as more of a welcome change from the regular unsettling quiet of the ship. Strange how someone's death changes memories.

She remembered how Kemp had helped during her captivity in Zion… going off to find Cover – or was it Shade? She couldn't remember her complaining about anything; she accepted the real world as it came. 

Just like Stephen, Kemp was another casualty of war. Just another statistic.

Trim sat silently in another room with Kesia. He faced the wall, his knees up at his chest, attempting to mourn silently. Kemp had been more than just the 'new recruit' to him – she was his closest friend. They had a connection, a similar weakness that they were able to bond by, and now that bond, that connection, was missing. They would no more have quiet conversations in the halls of Purgatory, no more of the uncommon cheerfulness that Trim had lately found. Kemp, his kindred spirit, had died. And he had seen it happen.

Graciously, Kesia was ignoring him. She too had been affected by Kemp's sudden departure – she had to watch her leave through the bay doors, resolute, with EMP in hand… and she never came back. Their newest recruit was gone – next would be Shade. Kesia couldn't help thinking that the cycle would never end. First Tevy, then Kemp… and though she felt guilty afterwards, Kesia couldn't help feeling thankful that she was an operator. She sat on the bed at the other corner of the room, staring at her crossed feet. They hadn't said anything since they got to the room; there was nothing to be said. They both needed time.

Alias felt grateful more than anything else. Though she was embarrassed to bunk in a room with the two other women of Stotte's crew, she was polite. Kemp's death reiterated a fact that Alias had rarely pondered upon: though she was permanently injured, she was _alive_. And though she'd never be able to go back into the matrix, she could help in other places. She had proven herself during the storm, and even Cover knew that she would never leave the ship. Yet, now that their ship was destroyed, the only thing left was their common bond. Zandra. Without her, they wouldn't have a cause, there would be nothing to hold them together. And through it all, Alias learned to appreciate life more, though painful it was. And though she was generally quiet around the strangers, she couldn't ignore their imploring questions about the One.

"What's it like working with her?" One girl asked, Kiska. She had short blonde hair, significantly shorter than that of Zandra herself. She had to be recently unplugged. 

"I don't know," Alias answered frankly, "I really don't have anything to compare to."

The two nodded in feigned understanding.

"What can she do?" asked the otherl, whom Alias later knew as Skylark. Unlike Kiska, Sky had long black hair, and penetrating eyes.

"A lot," Alias answered. They still watched her, waiting for more.

"She's really fast," she continued, pulling the facts out of nowhere – for no one had cared to really number Zandra's talents… "She's basically flown before. It's like she's got a complete hold of it."

Again the two girls nodded, and soon became quiet. Alias was finding it easier to open up to others, especially when she could revert to being the more experienced one again. 

"We heard the Oracle's really behind her," quipped Kiska, obviously the more talkative one of the group. Alias was a little surprised to hear her mention the Oracle – wasn't that just Purgatory's contact?

Kiska detected her confusion.

"Aegir went in to talk to her," she explained, "I think we're going in a few weeks."

Alias nodded; the conversation had gone far enough for her interest. Kemp was still on her mind, and would be for the next few days. Alias didn't envy her death, didn't envy the help that Kemp was able to give (even if it was at the expense of her life). She felt like something had been proven during those long hours. Alias was finally able to hold her own, and Purgatory now recognized it. Perhaps she'd be one of the crew again.

A few hours later Aegir came onto the PA system again. Some were awoken by the sound, others were already awake.

"Alright," he announced, his voice booming through the metal walls of the ship's hull, "We're about an hour away from final descent."

Zandra sighed and pulled herself up in the small bed that she and Shade now shared, attempting to keep the sheets from moving too much. She looked over to his side and saw that he too was awake.

"So when do we go back in?" he asked, looking at the wall.

"I don't know."

"I think we'll be in Zion for a while," he pondered, answering his own question.

"Yeah."

He sighed loudly, wearily.

"What?" Zandra asked, looking over at him.

"It's just…"

Silence. Zandra could hear people begin to move about the ship outside their small room.

"What?" She asked again.

"I still, I just don't know why,"

"Why…?"

"Why we went. Just… I don't know."

"What is it always for?" Zandra replied, a little shocked.

"I know, I know," he breathed, now looking at the ceiling, "It's just hard to see a connection."

"I know," Zandra answered back. There was a long pause.

"You think Cover'll rehire anyone?" she asked.

"I don't know."

Another pause, then he answered quietly: "I don't think anyone would come."

"They would."

This time it was Zandra's turn to sigh again.

"You know why Cover's sending me to assigns?"

"No," he answered lazily, putting his hand under his head.

"Hm," she replied, followed by a pause, "I guess I'll go tomorrow,"

"Yeah," he answered, "That sounds good."

"Hey Shade?"

"Yeah."

"What are we supposed to do?"

Silence; Shade had fallen back asleep.

A/N – I wonder, was it because Zandra felt bad for poor Shade and his aching neck, or was it…

Aqua_Phoenix1 – maha! I just got reloaded on dvd and have been watching it ever since. I love dorky Keanu.

Silver Dragon, Iron Claws – thanks! Ravaged will take a long time to do though – I haven't even planned it all out yet.

MicroChips – One last post? 

Alocin – oooh yeah, those fun room assignments…

Zuma – Ok, I won't tell you. But I do have that planned.


	36. An Unwelcome Surprise

Protector of Men Ch 73

Zandra walked up to assigns unsure of herself; unsure of how to act in Zion. People had already recognized her, had already come up to her introducing themselves, thanking her, and it put her off-guard. At least Shade had understood, and only retreated to his own apartment when it was clear that no one would bother her further.

The man behind the assigns counter smiled as she approached. Here we go.

"Zandra," the man greeted, holding out a hand. Zandra shook it with feigned confidence, but the man wasn't able to see through it.

"We've got something for you," he said, a sly grin creeping across his face. Zandra didn't say anything. No one had told her why she was going, someone, (Probably Cover,) had decided to keep it a secret from her.

"And what would that be?" she asked in return, attempting to sound as jovial as the man. He pulled out a key and jangled it a few times before presenting it to her.

"Gift from an old friend of yours," he said, "Left it to you just in case."

Zandra held her breath for a moment. An old friend? Could it be…?

"Tevy, I think… Yeah," the man mumbled, pulling out a piece of paper from a metal cabinet behind him, "Tevy."

Zandra sighed and accepted the key; the rest of the formalities were soon over. It wasn't as shocking as she would have guessed, though it did surprise her that Stephen had written out a will for himself. Zandra didn't even know that such things _existed_ in Zion. She was on the first floor; the trip to Stephen's old apartment would be long. Ahead of her was the restaurant that she and Stephen had visited their first visit together; Zandra remembered how she had cast him off in her insecurity… why couldn't she have accepted his compliments?

"Zandra," someone called behind her. She turned around, expecting another Zionite. She was surprised when she realized it was Councilor Gallup.

"Hello… councilor," she said.

"Been looking around for you for a while,"

"I'm sorry," she answered confusedly, "Did someone tell you I was here?"

"I asked around,"

"Oh," she murmured. Zandra wasn't sure where the conversation was headed.

"Well," he started, suddenly full of life, "Is now an alright time to meet with the council? We're anxious to discuss matters of Zion events with you… are you busy?"

Zandra paused a moment, but then shook her head feverishly.

"No, no."

And soon they were on their way to the councilor's quarters, Gallup leading at a fast pace, and Zandra trotting along behind. The other councilors were already waiting for them when the two arrived. They stood when she entered, and Zandra soon turned a bashful shade of red. Nonetheless, they motioned for her to sit across from then on their semicircular table.

"Zandra," one said, "We hear that you were successful in retrieving the informant."

She nodded.

"He'll be staying with the Oracle?" Another asked. Zandra was confused – _how did they know about the Oracle?_

"Yes," she stammered, "I think so."

"She's become quite the woman in Zion," Councilor Yogere mentioned. Zandra remembered her from a long time ago; when Stephen was still fresh on her mind. 

"A lot of our new recruits are going to see her," she continued, "She's got a lot of information to dole out, and she's quite the motivator for us."

Zandra nodded blankly. It was exactly what she would have dreaded: the one woman she didn't trust was now doling out propaganda to everyone in Zion. Gallup suddenly coughed very loudly and sat up in his chair. Everyone looked to him as he began to speak.

"Well, Zandra, we guessed that since you've come so far within the matrix, we should probably keep you equally up to date with Zion's matters."

Zandra was silent; she hadn't caught on to Gallup's clue.

"I think you need to know everything that we've known," he continued, gesturing to all twenty-two of the councilors, "If you're going to lead us, as they insist, you'll need to be accurately informed."

Zandra nodded, and quietly thanked him, though inside Zandra's mind was a tumult of thought. 

"He's an amazing man, Neo," another Councilor mentioned, his eyes resting somewhere in space. Again Zandra was befuddled.

"Why?"

"He freed the first of us," Gallup started, "It was him that started the resistance."

Zandra blinked twice; _started the resistance?_

"He was the one who freed all of us in this room," the first Councilor continued.

"Well, plus one."

Zandra made a face of confusion that they detected readily.

"Emory used to be a councilor," another began.

Everyone became silent for a moment, unease filtered through the air. Zandra watched as flickering glances bounced through the room. Gallup coughed once, and continued.

"He decided a long time ago it was not for him."

"So Neo freed you?" she asked. Zandra had to straighten it out, and even though she trusted the councilors, she still was reluctant to tell them what Neo had explained to her.

"All twenty-three of us," one answered. "He stayed inside, but we became unplugged and started Zion with his help."

His help? How could they have started Zion without help of the machines? Zandra must have looked thoroughly confused by this time.

"Is there something wrong?" Yogere asked, her face an expression of worry. Zandra shook her head.

"No," she said, "Just taking it all in."

"It is amazing, isn't it?" Another councilor continued, a grin plastered across his face. "All this progress, and only thirty-three years. Imagine: probably only a little longer and we'll have won the war!"

Zandra was quiet.

"Thirty-three years," he repeated, leaning back into this reclined chair, "And they thought they could control us."

Slowly he mumbled his way into silence, and Zandra was thankful.Gallup sighed loudly and changed the subject again.

"Well, when you go back in, be sure to talk with him about a plan."

"He knows a lot; he can control almost anything."

Zandra nodded again, but knew what they told her already.

"We're pleased to say that Zion has rallied one-hundred percent behind you," Gallup stated with confidence, swinging his fist in the air. Zandra smiled weakly.

"We're actually having a gathering tomorrow night to celebrate," Yogere said, then quickly corrected herself, "We're having an annual celebration… it's tomorrow. An annual celebration for the establishment of Zion."

Zandra tried not to make a face, and instead continued watching the councilors.

"It's in the gathering hall," another continued, "Speeches first – of course commending our (and your) work concerning the war – and then we provide food and music. It's all quite entertaining."

"Will you join us?" a councilor asked, tilting his head to the side. Zandra nodded, and they were satisfied.

The meeting was over soon afterwards; Zandra retreated into the hallways of Zion alone and depressed. The council had no idea of what Neo really knew; and they were leading the war that supposedly was going to send them all to salvation. She pulled out the key she held, rubbed it with her thumb as she wandered her way to Stephen's old apartment. Shade would probably be wondering where she was about now, but she forced into the back of her mind; Stephen came first.

She still found it hard to believe that she had missed Stephen's innuendo, the insinuation that would have alerted her to his feelings – and now left her in charge of his possessions. She basically owned his life now that he was incapable of it himself. Her thumb grew warm with friction as she continued walking towards his room.

It was hard for her to go through the rooms without having to stop. Many times she shut her eyes, half of herself trying to calm down, the other trying to remember the essence of what it was like when he was there.

She fell asleep on his couch, an old book resting on her chest. Tomorrow would come early, from habit. But for now, she would be lost in a dreamworld of her own devices not far from the oppression of the matrix. 


	37. Changed Tones

Protector of Men Ch 74

"There was another one earlier today,"

"Geez,"

"I know."

"That's, what, three in a week?"

"Four, but yeah."

"It's been a crazy week."

Zandra moved the phone into the crook of her shoulder and picked up a pencil that she had previously dropped on the floor.

"I know! That FBI thing was ridiculous."

Stephen paused then to turn down his television.

"You think they'd learn," he replied, "But it's always a power struggle."

"Yeah."

"Hey," he started, turning up his television again, "You hear that they're starting to question the witnesses?"

"No,"

"That's what it says here, something about the Constitution."

"Due process?"

Stephen laughed.

"Something to that effect."

"Well hey – I gotta run,"

"Right," he replied, "Lots of work,"

Now Zandra laughed; "Just astronomical charts."

"Sure, sure."

"Ok, I have to go…"

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

"Bye,"

"Bye."

Zandra hung up the phone and went back to her charts. There was a pattern in the fluctuations; there _had_ to be. It was just the reason that eluded her… something was causing the fabric to tear – ever so little – but again it was the reason that she couldn't discern.

Her fire alarm went off, screaming so loud that Zandra was startled into alertness. She looked around once, couldn't see any danger, but nonetheless left her dorm prematurely. It was hours later that her room - strangely, only _her_ room - burnt down.

She drifted into consciousness slowly. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was; in the meantime, Stephen's book fell onto the floor with a flop. Zandra sighed wearily and sat up on the couch, stared at the book for a few moments as the world righted itself. Then, equally as wearily, she picked it up and put it on a nearby table. 

Zandra rumpled her hair before going out of the room. There were no mirrors, but she was sure that it was pointing in all directions. Her clothes too, were dirty and wrinkled from her sleep. No room to care now. She locked the door with care, and rubbed the key one last time before dropping it in her back pocket.

Off to find something to eat. 

Shade wasn't about to accost Zandra; he heard why she was sent to assigns, and knew that she would be tender for a while. So he sat in the mess area on her floor, knowing that eventually, she might bump into him. For a while he had been accompanied by the senior operator Myrrh from his old ship. They caught up on old times, on new times, and generally had a painless conversation which was now hard to find in their worlds. But, as usual, Myrrh was off to wake up his harem and revitalize his party that never ended. It was then that Shade remembered why he had left Hardware for Purgatory. 

He could see Zandra approaching the bar not too far away, but didn't call out her name. Instead, he warily sauntered over to where she stood, waited until the right moment to cut in.

"What's free?" she asked the waiter who wore a look of intense concentration, almost fear.

"It's free," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Don't worry about it."

"Wow," she mused, "Good deal."

"Just a repayment for your hard work," he replied as he handed her a drink and some bread. He smiled quickly, and Zandra turned around. 

"Hey," Shade said. Zandra was only a little startled; her drink threatened to spill out of its container. 

"Oh, hey."

"Sleep well?"

He grimaced a little; obviously not a good question to ask when she had just spent the last night sleeping in her dead friend's room. 

Zandra scoffed minutely, then shook her head as she began winding her way through tables. She sat where Shade's book lay – _Ulysses_.

"So what have _you_ done?" she asked with a sigh, breaking her bread in half. Shade smiled inwardly.

"Not much, I met with an old friend."

"Old friend," she replied, half to herself. Shade coughed.

"Yeah, from my old ship."

"That's right…"

She paused,

"You came from another ship."

Shade laughed quietly.

"A mysterious past."

"Yeah."

Shade wanted to move away from the past: it held too many painful memories, for the both of them.

"Hear about this gathering tonight?"

"Briefly."

"It's supposed to be really big,"

"What are they doing?"

"I'm not sure. Last year it was basically a party."

Zandra scoffed again: a party was the last thing she needed, or wanted.

"The council wants me to go," she explained darkly, and Shade was quiet. 

"It starts in a few hours."

Zandra was silent now; a change was going on underneath her stony visage.

"How long is it?"

Shade sighed.

"I don't know. Last year it was only… an hour long. The party was all night."

Zandra frowned and nodded. She took a gulp of her drink and sputtered; it tasted much different than she had expected.

"What is this?" she asked, examining her glass warily. Around anyone else she would have remembered that she had said the same thing to Stephen a lifetime ago. 

"Oh, he must have given you the good stuff,"

Zandra breathed deeply; it certainly was potent.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed, and took another drink.

A/N – Authors notes (unfortunately,) will have to be shorter. Time constraints have forced me to write less, and A/N even more infrequently. :( I've been revising Reprise, and it's a long process. Everything's been working against me! Ah.

But you'll be excited to read the next chapter, it's something I've been working hard on.


	38. Beat

Protector of Men Ch 75

"Alright, it's over," she told him as the noise of excited speech became greater. Zandra moved to leave the great hall, but Shade held her arm for a moment.

"Come on, Zandra," he pleaded. Trim and Kesia left them, they smiled and made their way out. Cover still stood by, gazing indifferently at the crowd around him. Zandra was silent and watched Shade begging, enjoying the look on his face - however brief.

"Be like everyone else," he continued, almost on his knees, "Stay for a while?"

She paused, and in doing so realized that Cover was with them no longer. It was just her and Shade surrounded by Zionite strangers. He was her only connection now, which made it a little hard to leave.

"Okay," she sighed, allowing Shade to pull her further into the fray, "Just for a little while."

Shade smiled, and she followed suit with a sheepish grin that almost surprised Shade with its sincerity. She looked around for a moment; there must have been at least a three hundred people in the gathering, all milling about aimlessly. So this was the last living city.

_Boom!_

They heard the music start simultaneously; a single beat that trembled through the cave floor like thunder, soon followed by others equally isolated and profound. Shade suddenly looked at Zandra, his eyes wide.

"What?" he asked, his voice rising along with the music. Zandra wasn't moving, and he was worried that she wasn't going to dance.

"Nothing!" she shouted, giving up. There was no harm in letting go for a _little_ while… was there? She didn't care. The music had finally taken over, and though it was primitive in form, it spoke to them. It connected with the Zionites on its basest level; it incited in them the desire to rejoice, to celebrate, to rebel against the all-too-common feeling of dread; of war. Zion erupted into simultaneous movement.

Their dancing started out slow and irregular; neither knew quite how to move around each other, and therefore their movements were jarring, off-beat. Shade laughed once at their awkward jig, and as the music got louder, he moved in closer, more serious. Zandra accepted his advance, but focused on the music.

__

Boom! Da-Boom!

It was easier to move with the beat now. The music sped up, was louder, and they moved accordingly. Their eyes met briefly, only for a moment suspended in time – but it startled them out of their trance. Zandra laughed confusedly, broke the continuum of their grace and Shade stopped as well. But the music played on; the caves echoed with the noise.

_Boom! Da-Boom! Da-Da-Boom!_

"What?"

"What?"

Neither could hear what the other tried to convey, and they laughed, soon forgetting their questions in the confusion of the dance. Again they moved close to each other, both desiring the essence of the music. With each change of the beat they too moved, following, then leading only a second later. Neither focused on anything, and instead it was as if the two were possessed by something neither knew they held inside. Everything lay in the music. The primitive, raw music led them on.

_Boom! Da-Da-Boom! Boom! Da-Da-Boom!_

She was moving without thinking. The music had tapped her soul and every move, every muscle that had been cooped up for twenty-two years finally had a chance to stretch and get moving. She enjoyed the mere sensation of it; the idea was marvelous: it was all real. This was what it felt like to really dance. She was graceful in her spasms, often closing her eyes in sheer bliss, letting the music fill every inch of her being.

_Da-Boom-Da! Boom-Da-Boom! Boom! Boom!_

Shade too was on automatic. This seemed so natural, so easy that thinking was absolutely unnecessary. The beating of the drums went faster, but they did not follow its new pace. Shade advanced further, and they were now close enough to touch - though they did not. Doing so would have ruined the poetry they were creating. He watched her as she progressed; her smile kept him in a rapturous trance that made his movements easier. Both reveled in the experience they were having; a dual ecstasy in which the music kept them moving in a way that they never would have thought possible. The music had aroused something in her that had in turn, excited a part of Shade that he thought dead. He was enveloped in her, and she in him.

The melody was echoing in their minds, the people surrounded them, the ground reverberated with each beat. Their breathing was fast, their pulses quick, the smell of sweat lingered in the hot air. Zandra's muscles burned with overuse. It was all in the action of the moment; they were all living life second by second.

_Boom. Boom._

But as soon as it had started, it was over. In a matter of seconds the music had faded to a solitary drum and everyone had come to a standstill. Zandra tried to catch her breath. Again their eyes met, but this time the gaze was held. Together, silently, they came to the realization of what they had been doing. Together, and silently, they realized that the barrier had been broken, whether intentionally or no.


	39. Ambiguity

Protector of Men Ch 76

They were both silent, moving listlessly with the crowd around them, walking out of the hall. Few words had been spoken since the dance. Moments of euphoric nostalgia flashed through their minds that only served to intensify the already apparent tension.

"Well," Shade sighed as they walked further, the crowd thinning, "This is me."

"My elevator, I mean," He added, scratching the back of his neck. Zandra nodded with an unconscious frown. 

"I'll see you later then," She said.

"Yeah…"

"Yeah." A quick wave, and she had departed. Shade watched her go, then slowly unlocked the door to his apartment.

Myrrh was in his room as he entered.

"Hey, Myrrh, I told you I didn't want you here tonight."

"Man," Myrrh said, his hands up in innocence, "I needed a place to crash. Those ladies…"

"Come on, get out."

"That one chick? Man, Shade, my buddy." Myrrh put a chummy arm around Shade, who threw it off in disgust, "She is _it_! Woah, Shade."

"Myrrh, go."

"Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed, eyes wide in epiphanic pleasure, "You two should come over here!"

"Nice suggestion. Now leave."

"Aww – you wouldn't throw a beggar out in the snow?"

"There's no such thing."

And with that, Shade finally shoved Myrrh out of his room. Solitude finally achieved, he collapsed onto his bed to finish Ulysses. 

"Are we leaving?"

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head vigorously, "We go in a week."

Zandra was quiet as she waited for Kesia to continue. 

"But Cover wants us to get a look at the ship."

"Now?"

"Yeah."

And soon they were off on a journey to the docking bay to meet with the rest of Purgatory's crew.

The USS Libertas.

It was almost a humorous name; it evoked an idea of grandeur, of the pinnacle of machinery, though it was neither. Libertas was small; much smaller than Purgatory, and even smaller than Stotte. Trim, Cover and Shade stood in front of the hovercraft ready to greet them.

"This is the USS Libertas," Cover said as they approached. He glanced back to the ship, and then turned to face Zandra again.

"It's smaller, so we'll have to cut down on crew."

Everything was silent for a second; everyone looked around, trying to decipher what Cover had just told them.

"I can go," Trim said, stepping forward. Zandra's eyes were wide with sudden comprehension, but Cover's expression betrayed her feeling.

"That's not necessary," he said, staring unblinking at Trim. Trim held his gaze.

"Alias is staying behind."

"Why?" Zandra shot, surprising herself.

"She's undergoing some physical rehabilitation."

There was an awkward pause. Cover coughed, then continued.

"We'll be leaving on Tuesday. Zandra, do you know what we need to be doing?"

"We need to contact Neo," she said.

"Anything else? Do we have a plan?"  
Zandra paused for a second; her shoulders drooped a little.

"No."

"Then find someone who can help you with that."

Zandra nodded.

And they took a tour of the ship; Zandra was surprised (and a little worried) to hear that they might have to double up rooms. Everyone looked around and did a silent check of possible roomies. Zandra looked forward, so did Shade. Their eyes never met. 

"Only three at a time can jack in," Cover told them as they came in on the main deck. Kesia sat at the control chair and ran her hands along the keyboards. It wasn't like Purgatory, but it would have to do.

And soon enough the tour was over, and they all departed.

"Hey Zandra," Shade called, as she was about to leave. Her heart began to pound.

"Yeah?"  
"Are you going to talk to Emory?"

"I think so."

"I saw him earlier on the 11th floor. He might still be there."

"Thanks."

"So, ah – what are you doing later?"

"I dunno. I may be with Emory for a while."

"Oh. Well I'll see you later."

"Yeah."

"Bye."

"Bye."

And she was alone again. Zandra started to make her way to the eleventh floor, though she was in no hurry. She tried to keep her mind from wandering during the long elevator ride. Once the doors opened, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of Emory. But strangely, he seemed to be doing the same.

"Zandra," she heard him call in a hoarse voice. She turned to her right and saw that he was coming to her, his arm waving jerkily. His gait was erratic and he had a hint of a limp – but he was quick nonetheless.

"Hello, Emory," Zandra said, putting on a warm smile. Emory did not return it.

"We have much to talk about," He said, taking her arm. Zandra let herself be steered back into the elevator and watched as he guarded the door from any passerby's. Once it was closed, he turned back to her.

"You got Neo out."

"Yes," Zandra replied, "He's staying with the Oracle for now."

"The Oracle?" He looked almost concerned; his eyes were wide.

"I didn't want him to, but he is."

"That will be fine for now," he allowed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "The Oracle has gained too much leverage here."

Zandra nodded. "I heard a lot of people see her now."

"Too many," Emory continued, "If they knew…"

Zandra watched him expectantly.

"She's got a lot of secrets," he said, "She's not what they all think she is."

"I had a feeling," Zandra answered, "I don't trust her."

"Good. She's already led too many astray."

"What is she trying to do?"  
"She's idolizing you," he said, eyes wandering the still-ascending elevator, "She'll get them excited about a prophecy."

"About me," she said, almost as a question. Emory nodded quickly.

"From there it will be downhill."

"So what do I do?" she asked after a long pause. Emory was nodding to himself, but soon shook out of it and addressed her.

"Go back to him as soon as you can, and get him to tell you everything he knows. We can't win the war just from the Oracle, and you'll need to know as much as you can."

There was a pause, and then he continued:

"There are many things you still don't know about this world."

The elevator suddenly slowed to a halt, and Emory jumped out.

"I have work to do for now," he said without looking directly at Zandra, "But we will talk later."

With that, he leapt down the hallway and out of her sight. Without a plan, Zandra glumly made her way back down to Stephen's apartment.

There was no plan, and days before she'd depart. She sat on the bed in his apartment and stared at the wall. She couldn't be a leader if she didn't know the way. There was no plan. Why would the Oracle make them follow a hollow leader? Zandra sighed. Stephen's apartment exuded gloominess. This was all once his. He had stayed here, and his essence pervaded the room. I can't stay, she thought, and got back up. It was no use thinking about him longer. It was a fait accompli, and nothing more could be done. 

Zion needed some more exploring.

The door slammed shut behind her, and she didn't look back. Only a few days before they were going back out. She'd have to make the best of every second.

A/N – that's the end of rectitude! Wow, that was super-long. I'll be revising this once I get reprise done… my beta-reader is helping me with that. Again, thank you ever so much to all my faithful reviewers! I'm going to have to wait a while before I start ravaged, so I can appropriately adjust for revolutions. So excited!!


End file.
